A Bit of a Mix Up
by K-chu
Summary: Chap 7: The King demands that his son receive a thorough sex education to prevent ridicule from the nobles at court. Who else should help the young Prince but the Lady Haruno Sakura and his teacher Hatake Kakashi. Collection of SasuSaku Oneshots
1. Mix Up

**Rating:** M for sexual content

**Genre: **Romance/Humour

**Summary: **Sakura's has a long day at work and just wants to relax. Too bad a certain Uchiha won't let her.

**Author's Note: **This idea just came to me so I decided to type it up quickly. A bit sappy. It's my first lemon so try not to judge too harshly! I can never get enough of SasuSaku. Please review!

* * *

**A Bit of a Mix Up**

Sakura was tired, frustrated and at her limit. It was one of those days where it seemed the world woke up and conspired to make her life difficult. First, she was called into work at 5am because one of the medics decided to go out and drink a little too much the night before, and then decided not to show up for his shift. Then, a bunch of rowdy kids thought it would be a great idea to hop over the fence to the Forbidden Forest in order to take a quick peek around. It led to her having to run around all morning, administering emergency care to a bunch of idiots that can't even tell the meaning of a sign that distinctly says '_Do Not Trespass' _in bold writing.

If that didn't end matters, when she went to fetch her lunch out of the staff fridge, two hours _after_ her designated lunch break, she found it mysteriously disappeared. When she asked the staff member sitting at the dining table if she had seen it, the brown haired girl simply laughs and says, "I haven't seen it at all." Sakura could see it. All over her face.

When she went to the cafeteria she cringed at the sight of the long line up for fresh sushi but she thought, _hey, I've been through hell today, I deserve something delicious._ She spent her entire break waiting in that line and then watched the man in front of her buy the last roll; she had to settle for a 2-day old tuna sandwich, which she's not sure was actually _made_ from tuna.

Just as her shift was winding down to the last minute, a trauma patient was rushed through the door and she had to spend another hour stabilizing his condition.

At last, she'd packed away her things and started making her way through the exit when a pale, unsightly woman stumbled into her and smiled. The woman said she looked like an angel. Taken aback, Sakura says 'thanks'. Then the woman throws up all over her freshly changed clothes and stumbles onward into the hospital.

To say it was a bad day is an understatement.

Brushing her hand through her soft, pink hair, Sakura sighs as she walks past the entrance to the bathhouse. By now, it's after 9pm and most self-respecting citizens of Konoha are in their houses, washing up dinner dishes and preparing for bed. The baser element are mingling in bars, beginning their evening full of drunkenness and pleasure.

She gets inside the changing room and begins unzipping her barf-covered shirt. She slides her skirt over her hips and lets it pool in a heap around her feet. Her hands reach up and unwind the chest bindings she's worn faithfully since she was 12. Sakura frowns slightly. Unlike her mentor, Tsunade, she's rather small chested. Smaller than most of her friends. While Hinata is teased for her large endowment, Sakura is teased for the opposite. _Whatever_, she sighs.

Making quick work of her underwear, Sakura bends down and tosses her clothes in a basket before wrapping a towel around herself and walks out onto the deck. Glancing around, she sees that no one else is occupying the bath. _Perfect_. She smirks. It's the first time today that the gods smiled in her favour. Carelessly dropping her towel on the ground, she walks over to the steamy bath and dips a toe in before slipping the rest of the way in.

"Mmm," she moans. The feeling of a hot bath at the end of a long, _long_ day is the absolute best. Basking in the warmth that relaxes her tired muscles, she kicks her feet up and enjoys floating on her back. The moon is almost full and lights the sky with its milky glow. She likes to gaze up at the night's sky on calm nights like tonight. It's an odd comfort.

Sakura closes her eyes and focuses on eliminating all tension from her body.

She's vaguely aware that someone just cleared their throat but ignores it. _Can't they see that I'm relaxing here! Che. _She lets out a long sign and redoubles her effort to ignore the pair of eyes boring holes into her.

"Ahem." The sound rings through her ears again and she finally snaps back to her feet and glares at the person interrupting her peace.

Hard green eyes turn to wide ones as she stares into stoic, ebony eyes.

"Sa-Sasuke!" She ducks down in the water so that only her head is out of the water and clenches her arms over her chest. _Did he… did he just see me naked. _

"W-what the hell do you think you're doing in here," she yells as she blushes furiously.

He raises an elegant eyebrow but his lips remain plastered in a thin, straight line.

Unconsciously, Sakura's innocent green eyes travel down past his face. Drinking in that sleek neck of his, continuing down past his collarbones and perfectly formed pecks. Still her, eyes continue their descent, ingraining the image of his chiseled abdominal muscles into her skull. Her eyes stop when they reach the white towel hanging loosely from his hips.

She gulps and her eyes snap back up to his face.

He's smirking a little. _Oh shit. _Was she gawking at him obviously? Her cheeks heat up further and she quickly turns around so that she can control her wayward vision.

"I didn't realize you became a pervert, Sasuke!" She bites out angrily, because when she's embarrassed, she'd rather hide it with anger.

She hears the dark haired god, _or demon_, behind her scoff.

"I could say the same to you, Sakura." His voice is calm and indifferent, but she can tell there's a slight hint of amusement mixed in it. This is confirmed when she turns her head back to see those gorgeous eyes of his mired with a smug arrogance that only he can pull off.

With expert grace, Sasuke steps forward and bends down to sit at the edge of the bath. He dips his legs in and leans back on his arms. Never once do his eyes leave the medic, whose cowering in front of him with a face even redder that that pretty pink hair of hers. _It's a bit cute_, he thinks, but also_ annoying_.

Sakura's eyes narrow at the man opposite of her. His intention of staying is now quite obvious.

"What do you think you're doing?" She tries to make his head explode with her mind. It fails.

"What do you think _you're_ doing?" He mimics, tilting his head in challenge.

What. The. Hell. She didn't realize Sasuke became a parrot since his return to Konoha.

She blows bubbles in the water and fights against every fiber of her being not to storm over to him and punch that smug expression right off his face.

Suddenly she gets an idea. She grins mischievously, the glint in her eye impossible to miss even in the late hours of the evening.

"I didn't realize you were finally coming out Sasuke-kun. But I have to say, I always thought you'd be the top." Mentally, she pats herself on the back when she sees his expression fall and his face twitch in annoyance.

Sasuke's eyes darken. _So. She's going to play it that way_. He eases his weight onto his arms as he lifts his lower half up off the ledge he was perched upon and into the steamy water. He takes a step forward. And another. That aggravating smirk returning to his face as he watches the girl's expression shift from victory to surprise to nervousness.

"H-hey! Stay where you are," she tries to sound forceful but cringes as her voice cracks and comes out rather weak and pathetic. He's still walking toward her. Only a few feet away from her now.

"I swear to God Sasuke, I'll scream and tell everyone about what a sexual predator you are!" She turns her body to face him as she takes several steps back to create more distance between them. Her hands are still covering her chest for dear life, and she keeps her legs shut as closely together as possible to prevent him from seeing any of her feminine assets.

Sasuke pauses. Sakura smiles in triumph.

"You're going to tell them," he takes a step forward, "that _I'm_…" another step, "a sexual predator?" He tilts his head in a feint of innocence.

Sakura gulps, a bead of sweat travels down the side of her face.

"Yes, so you know… you better stop" she trails offs, suddenly feeling less and less confident.

"I think you could try," he starts in a dark tone, "but it would be hard for them to believe you, when _you're _the one in the _men's _bath." He's now only a foot away from her. Again her eyes start to wander but his voice snaps her attention back up to those dangerous eyes of his.

"Wait. What?" She holds up her hand in front of her. The action is completely and utterly childish in nature, shaking her open hand at him like a stop sign.

She looks around, completely forgetting about the male in front of her. Scrunching her eyes together in concentration, she actually pays attention to her surroundings for the first time since she got there. The set up is similar to usual but a few things are out of place. There's a plant and basket for wet towels on the opposite side of the bath from usual, and there's some decorative rocks in places she's never seen before. Then, just above the entrance to the changing rooms, she sees the small outline of a male stick figure. It dawned upon her. She was not in the women's bath.

_Oh. My. God. _

She has to choke down a scream and turns the darkest shade of red Sasuke's ever seen on a person.

"Th-this is… This is… the men's bath," she mutters in complete and utter horror. "Oh God." She takes another step and backs into the dividing wall between the two baths. At that moment, she prays for a miracle and hopes she might disappear into the wall behind her. That or spontaneously combust.

"Yes." A strong hand lands on the wall behind her head. "Yes, it is." The other joins it on the opposite side, trapping the now trembling medic between a wall and… an incredibly hot, attractive body.

A squeak escapes her lips and with a gulp she swallows down that momentary sense of pride that had formed in her chest only minutes ago. She now feels more like prey than ever and the dark haired man in front of her is the predator.

"I uh… I guess I should apologize… for earlier," she mumbles and glances sidewards, trying to ignore the way his hot breath tickles her face.

Silence.

Sasuke looks down at her petite form, now trapped between his arms. She's not looking him. He watches as her eyelashes flutter shut, and she takes in a deep gulp of air to steady her breathing. Her cheeks are still red, revealing her embarrassment to all the world; it even travels down past her cheeks, to her neck and beyond. He looks down at her chest, which is partially obscured from view by water. What a pain, he signs in annoyance.

His eyes travel back up to her face, taking special interest in those pink lips. How many times did he think about… no. He mentally slaps himself but can't bring himself to pull his gaze elsewhere. She darts a tongue out to moisten them and he watches it travel from right to left, leaving a fresh trail of saliva to glossen them. The action makes heat travel to his groin and his breath hitches in his throat.

It's too much and he finds himself leaning forward slightly, dangerously close to those tantalizing lips.

"Yes, Sakura," his voice is deep and raspy with lust, "I think you should apologize for it."

Her eyes widen, and she turns to face him but doesn't have time to do much because suddenly his lips are crashing down on hers in a bruising kiss. His tongue runs along her bottom lip, begging for entry but she's too shocked to even begin to know what to do. Annoyed by this, he brings a hand down and squeezes her breast, rolling her nipple between his fingers. The action forces a gasp from her and he uses the opportunity to explore her mouth. He desperately searches every nook and cranny, promising himself to memorize it before the night is over.

His other hand joins the first, caressing, squeezing, and pinching. Each new sensation sending shivers down her spine. She draws back for air, breathing harshly against his chest. She tries to think. Tries to convince herself that this is a bad idea but how can she when her mind is clouded and filled with dirty thoughts.

"Sasuke-kun," she whimpers. He looks at her lips, swollen and red from his actions and smirks. She should always keep that look, he thinks to himself. He bends back down to lap at her neck, kissing and sucking wherever he can. Making sure to mark her as his own so everyone can see she's taken.

She moans as he finds a particularly sweet spot behind her ear. She didn't know kisses could feel so good. One of her hands snakes around his neck and into his tousled black hair, she holds him and presses him closer against her, not being able to get enough of those hot lips against her. Her other hand tepidly explores his chest, ghosting up and down his sides. She's never been with someone like this so her touches are careful and cautious. All her mind is telling her is that she needs bring him closer.

As his hands roam up and down her sides, Sasuke's tongue continues its descent downward, working its devilish magic on every part of her skin he can reach. For a moment, his hands rest on her hips before urging her to stand upright, so that he can get a full view of her chest, unobstructed by water. He takes a small step back to study her in all her glory. It's a remarkable feeling to have someone bear everything to you.

She shivers, exposed to the night's air, and rushes to cover herself but he takes quickly her wrists in his hands and holds them at her sides so he can memorize the subtle curve of her chest and toned stomach. Her face burns with embarrassment as she lets him be the first person ever to see her naked form.

When he doesn't say anything for a while she begins to shift uneasily. Does he dislike what he sees? She glances at his stoic face and tries to speak but her voice comes out softly.

"I'm sorry they're not bigger," she feels the needs to apologize for her shortcomings because she's not perfect like him.

He shakes his head and leans into her. His lips brush against her forehead and he holds her close and smiles.

"They're perfect. _You're _perfect."

She starts to cry. He cleans away her tears with his mouth.

"I love you," she whispers. It's the worst kept secret.

"I know."

His fingers travel down, down past her navel, past her hips. They land on the inside of her thigh, where he begins to draw lazy circles with them. Up and down they dance, stirring something hot in her gut. Her breathing grows shallower and she bites down on her lip to suppress another moan. It comes out as a whimper.

"Sasuke-kun, please," she's not quite sure what she's begging for but the coil in her stomach is demanding more for him.

Fueled by her reactions he brings a finger up to rub against her most sacred part. It's maddening. She wraps her arms around him and draws him closer, relishing in the feel of his hair in the crook of her neck. She breaths in his scent. It makes her head feel hazy and she somehow manages to think to herself that she now knows what it's like to be 'high'.

He inserts a fingers and begins to thrust in and out. The momentum starts slow but steadily builds as she begins to involuntarily roll her hips forward to meet him. He adds another finger, stretching her, to ready that hot, forbidden cavern for what's about to come.

"Nngg," she throws her head back when he finds that magic spot inside her. The whimpers and gasps she's making are sending him over the edge. He can't get enough of her. He claims her mouth again, hungrily taking everything he can, but she meets him with equal necessity and the two of them engage in a duel for dominance.

Finally, he can't take it anymore and pulls back, withdrawing his fingers. This is the point of no return so he gives her the chance to end this before she loses her cherished virginity forever. He doesn't realize that the moment for stopping is long past. She's been waiting for this a lot longer than just tonight. All her life she's loved him, and she'd wait all her life for him to love her back.

Realizing he's giving her permission to stop, she smiles. He never is one for words. She answers him by nipping at his neck, sucking until she pulls back and can see she's left a mark of her own. She admires her handiwork by rubbing a finger over it and kissing him there once more. He sighs.

"Please Sasuke-kun," she repeats herself. "I want it to be yours. _I_ want to be yours." She's never been surer of anything in her life.

The words she chooses are exactly what he wants to hear because instantly his hands are on her hips, lifting her up and wrapping those small yet powerful legs of hers around his waist. Feeling his bare skin against hers, she's vaguely aware that the towel around his hips was lost at some point in their fervid engagement. Momentarily, she blushes at the feel of his hardness pressed against her thighs. She's abruptly torn from this thought when he slams his lips back down on hers and takes the last of her innocence with a slick thrust of the hips. He swallows her gasp of pain and fumbles with her breasts in an effort to distract her. She's so tight and hot that he can't hold back a throaty moan.

"Sakura," he groans against into her lips. It's the first time she's ever heard his voice filled with so much need and it almost makes her forget the throbbing pain between her legs. She kisses him chastely once. Twice. And again.

Steadily, he rocks in and out, letting her adjust to the feel as he wipes away some stray tears. After several moments the pain starts to dull and she wraps her arms around his neck, clinging to him like he's a life line. His pace picks up, that familiar bundle of nerves starts to collect in his lower half. Their breathing grows more labored and they exchange hisses and gasps. It's the secret language of passion.

A particularly hard thrust causes him to grunt and she lets out a small cry as he fills her deeper and deeper.

Half lidded green eyes meet onyx. Unbreaking, they stare into each other's eyes, at the precipice between absolute need and pure bliss. The pace continues for several minutes. Finally, neither can take it anymore and she arches, head thrown back, mouth agape and hair splayed all over her face. The picture of it is enough to send him over the edge.

"Sasuke!" She screams as pure ecstasy overtakes her shaking body. He follows seconds after, grunting with one last thrust and his seed pours deep into her very core. He leans his head against her shoulder, panting loudly as he tries to regain control over his senses. His hand slips off her hip and supports himself against the wall. It's all he can do to keep them both upright.

The night's air is filled with their haggard breathing.

Finally, he pulls out and sets her gently back on the ground. His heartbeat returning to a more natural pace. Taking a step back, he looks at her once more. Could he ever get enough of her? He kisses her on the forehead, silently communicating his thoughts to her and hoping she understands.

Slowly he turns to the direction of the changing rooms, but stops to reach his hand out for hers. She hesitates before taking it.

"Sasuke-kun, I…"

"I know." He repeats. If he was sure of anything, it was this petite, pink haired girl's unwavering feelings for him. She should learn that she doesn't need to say it. He knows. It's _annoying_.

Her eyes cast to the side and he can see that he's upset her. Sighing, he grabs her hand and yanks her. Hard. She squeaks as her body collides rather unlady-like against his.

"Don't make me say it," he says into the darkness, a hint of annoyance in his voice.

Giving him a questioning stare she tilts her head slightly, "What?" She matches his annoyance with irritation, not appreciating his abuse.

"You know," he grits his teeth. Does she have to be like this.

"I don't know what you're talking ab—"

"You're annoying." He cuts her off. Instantly her eyes widen, before narrowing and she immediately goes to pull away from him, quite offended by his words. She's going to go home and cry while mourning the loss of her dignity.

He sighs. Again. As she walks past him, but she doesn't get far because his arms snake around her abdomen and he buries his face in her neck.

"I love you," he says faintly, as if saying the words too loud will cause the world to crumble. It does, in a way. Because the ground seems to disappear under Sakura's feet and she has to lean against him to continue standing.

"What," she says breathlessly.

"I'm not saying it again."

She smiles. She only needs to hear it once.

oOoOoOo

With a towel safely wrapped around her, Sakura begins taking her clothes out of the basket and gets dressed with Sasuke at her side. She slips on her undies and skirt before taking out her barf-covered shirt.

"What the hell is that," Sasuke's face scrunches slightly in disgust.

"It's nothing," she says calmly. "Today was a great day," she looks at him adoringly and smiles. He just shakes his head in exasperation.

Things could be worse.


	2. Lesson

**Rating: **M for Sexual Content

**Summary: **Sasuke takes it upon himself to teach Sakura how to write a proper lemon. If only she listened better.

**Author's Notes: **Here's another light-hearted one. Can't have all my plots being too dark! I apologize if it's a bit rushed v; Maybe one day I'll write a fic that's not rated M (... nahhh). **Ahem, this was originally uploaded as chapter 4 but I rearranged the chapter sequence so 'Twisted' could remain in seamless transition.

Ahh, the Naruto manga is so killing me recently. There's so many things I want to know... and I want more Sasuke (+Sakura hehe)! Sasuke actually really depresses me in the manga and makes me feel so hopeless. But I don't want to spoil anything for those of you who aren't caught up. I'll just breathe heavily in between every manga update *wheezes*

* * *

**. . .**

**An Important Lesson**

Sakura had a secret obsession. One she hid from all her friends and family. It's not that she was ashamed of it, she just didn't think they would understand and she didn't really feel like explaining it to them. You see, she'd been reading this series of books for the past few years now. The plot was great and intense, the character development wonderful, but best of all was steadily growing romantic interests between her two favourite. She just knew they belonged together, with all the subtle glances and the deep emotional connection the two shared. Of course, she knew it was all fictional, but that didn't stop her from fantasizing about the two of them for significant proportions of the day.

The pink haired girl let out an exasperated sigh and rested her head against her knees. If only the damn author would quit being such a tease and create some concrete romance between the two characters! How long did the he expect a girl to wait?!

In the midst of venting her silent frustrations, her active imagination somehow drifted to yet another fantasy. How hot would it be if her two favourite characters got locked in a small closet together, forcing them to reveal their obvious attraction to one another. Her stomach performed a flip at the thought. _Oh yes, that would be good_.

Grinning, she stretched her legs out on the couch and grabbed her pen and notepad, which had been resting on the coffee table beside her. A plot like this needed to be written down on paper so that she could be sure to remember it and dream about it later. Somehow, writing down her wild fantasies made them seem more real.

Her hand scribbled back and forth on the page, inspiration flowing from her and spilling out on paper. Flipping, page after page, her furious pace continued without much hesitation until she reached the most important part. _The lemon. _

Now, don't get her wrong. The plot is essential to any good lemon. The author has to create a good deal of sexual tension between the main characters, dragging in the reader and getting them waiting with bated breath for what they know needs to happen next. But, assuming you succeed in building enough excitement and anticipation throughout the plot, the quality of the lemon will leave the final impressions on the reader. If it falls short, their excitement will be lost and they'll end the story with slight disappointment.

Unfortunately, for her, she always froze when it came to writing sex scenes. For one, it was highly embarrassing. Just knowing that she was capable of thinking such... _dirty _thoughts caused her fingers shake and a blush creep across her face. Another thing, she wasn't experienced in _that _way at all so many times she had to guess what a proper bodily response would be. It was difficult and unconvincing, to say the least.

The pencil stilled on the page for several minutes at a time as she tried to think of the best words to use in order to describe the steamy scene she'd concocted. Slowly, she treaded on, using all of her mind power to make the scene a good one though in her gut she knew she was failing miserably. Each time she re-read a sentence, her stomach sunk with disappointment. How is it that her thoughts made her stomach giddy but as soon as she wrote it down on paper, that imaginary excitement quickly fell flat.

"Ack!" She flung her notebook on the coffee table and grabbed her hair. "I just can't do it," she muttered to herself, drawing her legs back up and burying her head in her knees. It was hopeless. She just didn't have it in her to create a steamy piece of work.

"Can't do what?" A stoic voice broke through the air, completely stilling her heartbeat and causing her hairs to stand on edge. Her eyes snapped up, wide with surprise as she gaped at her childhood crush. He stood, on the other end of the coffee table with his hands in his pockets and his head tilted in bored curiosity. Those gorgeous obsidian eyes, that had plagued so many of her dreams, remained impassive as ever.

"Sasuke-kun… what are you doing here?" She asked disbelievingly, still confused by his sudden appearance.

"Hn," he grunted out the small sound, unappreciative of her ignoring his question. He's not the one who should be answering questions, it should be him asking the questions and receiving answers.

"You were supposed to meet us for lunch."

Somehow, Sakura's eyes widened even larger as her gaze darted over to the clock hanging on the side of the room. _Shit. _

"I completely lost track of time!" She gasped out, still staring at the clock as she calculated how many hours she'd been sitting on the couch writing.

"Doing what?" He scoffed at her wide-eyed reaction. This girl really was annoying, making him waste an hour of his life eating lunch with Naruto. Just the memory of how his loud-mouthed friend slurped down noodles like an animal made a scowl appear on his face.

"Huh?! I was… uh…" Quickly her eyes fell on the notebook she'd thrown carelessly on the coffee table. Her stomach performed a free fall as she realized it was still turned open to a page where she'd pathetically attempted to write a sex scene. _Oh God. _She could _not _let Sasuke see that.

The raven hair boy followed her line of sight and quirked his eyebrow up as he noticed how horror-struck she looked while gazing some notebook. A diary, maybe? Whatever it was, she didn't look like she wanted him to read it, which only made his interest spike further.

Sakura's hand quickly snapped out, reaching for the notebook. Her reaction speed was too slow however, and the hand of her dark-haired teammate quickly darted out and swapped up the item right from under her fingers.

Her heart raged against her chest and a cold sweat broke out all over her body as her worse nightmare began coming true.

"G-give it back!" She jumped up and reached for her notebook but was prevented from its grasp by the table that divided them.

"Hm, is this what kept you?" Sasuke couldn't help but smirk at the girl in front of him. She looked like she was about to explode. _Cute. _There must've been something really important in that book of hers. His eyes drifted down to the opened page.

Just as he was about to start reading, Sakura leapt over the table like a mad woman in an effort to grab the book out of his hands. The only thought that replayed in her mind was that she needed to get that book away from prying eyes. She pounced over the table, her arms outstretched as she made a desperate bid to retrieve it.

With ease, the Sasuke side-swept her attack and watched with amusement as she landed, quite indiscreetly on the carpeted floor. With her head cast dejectedly to the floor and her ass in the air, she made quite the sight. He stepped away from her, looked back down at book and started to read. Out-loud. Just to heighten his amusement.

"_Kubo leaned down and placed a needy kiss on Kanako's lips,_" Sakura's eyes widened and she sunk lower on her hands and knees in complete and utter humiliation. Oh God, oh god, oh god. This can't be happening!

Sasuke paused and glanced down at the girl. His calm expression taking in how she looked about ready to roll over and die. Oddly, the scene eased his decision to continue tormenting her. She still had to pay for ditching lunch and making him suffer with Naruto's company. Alone.

"_Their kiss deepened and Kanako released a moan," _he smirked, "_Slowly, her hand started to travel down Kubo's chest." _Sakura shut her eyes, willing herself to disappear and fall into an eternal abyss where she'd never have to see Sasuke again. There's no way she could live after this. She'd have to change her name, change her appearance, and move to the opposite side of the Earth.

"_Kanako's hand reached the waistband of his pants, where she slipped past the-_"

"Sasuke-kun, stop!" Burning with humiliation, Sakura jumped up and again tried to swat the book out of his hand, but her tormenter merely scoffed and held the book out of her grasp.

"Sakura," she shivered at the way he said her name, "I didn't know you were so heavily influenced by Kakashi." He always imagined their female teammate was the most innocent among them. Her face seemed to burn with embarrassment whenever she saw Kakashi's nose in his all-too-familiar perverted books. Perhaps, her red face actually burned with something else entirely.

He started to walk around the table, toward the couch, followed closely by his pink-haired teammate.

"I wonder what Kakashi and Naruto would think if they knew about this little hobby of yours," he asked nonchalantly, enjoying the way her mouth fell open at the mortified thought. Really, she was so easy to read.

"Maybe Kakashi would even lend you some of his books." Again, he looked at her with a composure only mastered by Uchiha's. Her cheeks were a dark shade of red and her captivating emerald eyes shone with unushered tears of shame. From her rapid, shallow breaths, it was clear to him that her heart must've been working in overtime.

"To be honest," he sat down on the couch and looked down at the book in his hand, "Your prose is not bad but…" His dangerous obsidian eyes met hers before he reached forward and grabbed her wrist, yanking her roughly into his lap.

"You lack details." He whispered the words into her ear, as his chest pressed flush against her back.

Sakura shivered at the feel of his hot breath on the outer shell of her ear. He was so close she could feel his steady heartbeat against her back. It was a stark contrast to hers, which beat erratically in her chest.

"S-Sasuke-kun?" She breathed out. His proximity made her head feel light and her body hot. Shifting slightly, the thought entered her mind that it'd better to get away from him to regain control of her senses, but one of his arms snaked around her lithe waist and held her firmly in place.

"Here." Sasuke plopped the book in her lap and turned to a fresh page. "I'll teach you. Write what I say." She felt him smirk against her cheek as he reached down and wrapped her fingers around the previously discarded pen.

"What?! I don't need… um… !" She tried to look over her shoulder at him but with his head leaning in so close to her neck, and his lips hovering above her ear, all she could see through the corner of her eyes was his messy raven locks.

"Shh," he tsk'd. "Just pay attention and write." He scolded. It's not as though he's asking her to do a lot, _silly girl_.

"Write this…" He paused before continuing. "_Kubo_'s hot breath fanned across _Kanako's_ cheek, as he leaned in to run his hot tongue across her soft, succulent skin." His lips curled up upon hearing her gasp. He proceeded to dart his tongue out, running that sinfully wet tongue of his along her cheek. Pressing his lips down, he left a soft kiss before working his way to her ear.

Her breathing hitched when his lips grazed over her skin, tracing the shape of her ear, before parting and briefly sucked the lobe. Leaning in closer, he buried his nose in the crook of her neck. The sweet, strawberry scent of her shampoo wafted in through his nose.

"Hmm. You smell good." His lips pressed down just under her ear on the spot that connected with her neck, and was rewarded with the sound of her sucking in a shaky breath. The compliment caused her cheeks to burn impossibly darker with embarrassment.

"Sasuke-kun," she murmured. The way it rolled off her tongue made his body involuntarily shiver. His eyes darkened minutely, but he had to keep himself in control. She was the one who had to learn her lesson.

"Are you writing this?" He tapped her hand impatiently as he noticed she hadn't even managed to write a single word.

"Come on, you're going to fall behind." He hissed in her ear and tightened his hold around her waist in a sign of warning.

Blushing immensely at his actions, Sakura huffed deeply. Her usually agile mind had started to cloud over with lust, dulling her usual senses and heightening others that rarely used.

Quickly, she scribbled words across the page. Swallowing in an effort to ignore the sensations his subtle touches stirred in her stomach. She couldn't help but wonder how Sasuke could seem entirely unaffected by such close contact when her body was practically itching for more. Maybe she really was a pervert!

"Good." Sasuke commented as she followed his instructions.

"Now write, as _Kubo's _lips made work of _Kanako's_ slender neck," he sucked on her neck for emphasis, "his spare hand slowly trailed up her abdomen, his fingers dragging along her taunt muscles until…"

Sakura struggled to continue writing, squirming anxiously in his lap as Sasuke's fingers paused under her clothed breast. For a moment, silence stretched and the only sounds heard were her slightly labored breathing and the scribbling of her pen against paper. Then, she stopped writing, having caught up to his verbal command.

"Sasuke-kun…?" She questioned when he remained silent and again made a move to look at him.

"Hn." He grumbled out slightly, her constant squirming was starting to affect him.

"Until, he cupped her breast in his hand and massaged gently." Sakura gasped when Sasuke grabbed her breast and began kneading it with his fingers. Her back arched slightly, unconsciously leaning in to the foreign contact. It never struck her that having her breast fondled could make her body so sensitive.

She whimpered slightly when his hand withdrew and tugged on her shirt zipper, but he paused before dragging it more than a couple centimeters.

"Does Kanako's shirt have a zipper?" His tongue clicked in his mouth in contemplation.

"What?" Pink eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"A zipper. Does Kanako have a zipper?"

"I um…. I don't…" Her mind was too muddled to concentrate on specific details like that. Not with his lips and hot breath fanning her neck. Unconsciously, her head leaned back against his shoulder and tilted to the side, giving him greater access to do what he pleased.

Sasuke sighed and yanked down the zipper.

"Whatever," he muttered impatiently.

The sudden rush of cool air that greeted her exposed stomach made her shiver. She would've protested her state of undress but wasn't given the time because at once, Sasuke's hand palmed her scantily clad breast and his lips descended on her neck with ravenous hunger. He sucked, leaving nice angry pink marks all over her neck. _Good_, he thought smugly to himself, it will remind her of what happens when she ignores a lunch date.

"Ha… Sasuke-kun!" She hummed, losing herself against his devilish ministrations.

"Good one, Sakura," he swept his hand under the material of her bra and ran his thumb over her pert bud.

"Kanako gasped out Kubo's name with burning desire, relishing the way his cool fingers brought her nipples to hardness." His other arm unwound from her waist and his thump teased along the edges of her waistband before flicking under.

"Pay attention, Sakura." His hand at her waist slapped the side of her hip, earning a sharp gasp. Once again, those green eyes widened in surprise.

"You're not even writing after all this effort I'm going to in order to help you," he chastised her, a disappointed frown now marring his face.

Sakura's hand lazily wrote across the page. She could feel heat pooling in her core and couldn't stop herself from rubbing her legs together to relieve the growing itch. The task of writing was quickly becoming too difficult to concentrate on.

Sasuke licked his lips, noticing the way her knees subtly brushed together. The simple action almost making him lose his composure completely. It would be so easy right now to spin her around and thrust his hips against her. He took in a deep breath. No. Uchiha's knew when to be patient. He was going to wait until she was begging him for forgiveness before freeing from this private lesson.

"Now, this is an important part so pay close attention," he smirked. "With Kanakosquirming in his grasp, Kubomade quick work of her skirt." Sasuke yanked roughly on her skirt and shorts, shoving them down past her knees. Her cotton underwear snagged with her tight bicycle shorts and almost followed the way of their companions, but Sakura's hand rushed down and held them in place. She still had enough sense in her to protect the last of her modesty.

"Sasuke-kun… what are you doing? I-It's embarrass-"

"Don't question someone's methods when they're trying to help you," her raven haired tormenter growled out.

Rubbing his fingers in slow circles against her thigh, he inched his way closer to her maidenhood.

Leaning in to her ear, he whispered dangerously, "Kubo's fingers played along the edges of Kanako's white panties, continuing their torturous descent until…" he pulled her thighs apart to gain greater access, "he rubbed his fingers against her clothed desire." Roughly, his fingers mimicked his words.

"Ohhh! Sasuke-kun!" She moaned loudly, holding onto the pen in her hands with an impossibly tight grip. It seemed to be the only thing still grounding her to the couch.

Sasuke smirked, as he fondled her breasts and rubbed her core until she ached, and her entire body burning with want.

"Did you get all that?"

She shook her head, shivering in response to their intense intimacy. How could he expect her to keep writing when all of _this _was happening? She whined in protest when his hand between her legs pulled back.

No, no, she didn't want him to stop! Her hips lifted slightly in a failed attempt to feel those talented fingers of his pressed against her warmth once more.

"Sasuke-kun, please!" She whined.

"You're not even trying to write this, what a bad listener you are," he spoke sternly behind her. "Maybe I should just give up if you're not going to try…" A mischievous grin tugged at the corners of his lips as he saw her half-lidded eyes squint together in renewed concentration.

"I… I am trying, Sasuke-kun!" She pouted as her hand started to move messily across the page. She now had completely no idea what she was writing, and was sure it was illegible because she wasn't even looking at the notebook. Her face was craned to the side, trying to stare pleadingly into dark obsidian eyes.

"Better." His teeth grit together when the girl shifted her body to look back at him. The subtle movement of her backside rubbed uncomfortably against his pelvic region. Damn girl didn't know what she was doing to him.

"You better keep writing now, do you hear me?"

All Sakura could do was nod in response.

"Alright. Kubo's middle finger," he yanked down her panties, causing Sakura to let out a started shriek, "slid past Kanako's wet folds," she gasped, "and plunged deeply into her burning core." Sasuke hissed out a little as Sakura, again, pressed down on his lap.

"Ahh! Sasuke-kun!" She moaned loudly as his finger thrust in and out at a steady pace.

"Kanako panted harshly against his merciless ministrations." Sakura's threw her head back, gasping as he slipped in a second finger and drove into her at an even faster pace. He was driving her insane and verbalizing his actions only made it that much more erotic.

"Please Sasuke-kun… Oh! Please!" She didn't even know what she was asking him for. All she could feel was the bundle of nerves in her stomach being pushed to the brink. She ached so bad she thought she'd split in two.

Sasuke groaned as she rolled her hips against his, clearly trying to suck his fingers in further but also succeeding in aggravating the bulge in his pants that started to grow in response.

"Hn… Sakura." Even in her clouded mind, she heard the way his voice hitched in a strangled moan. It surprised her, but she didn't have time to dwell because his hand left her chest and pulled on her chin. He yanked her in to a bruising kiss, glaring at her through his own darkened eyes. To make him this needy…

Sakura's eyes shut as her tight walls clenched against his intrusive fingers. Her sweet fluids poured out of her, making his fingers all slick and wet, not that he minded. Releasing a throaty moan, she made a long hard thrust as she came violently. Panting heavily, her entire body shook.

"Mm… Sasuke-kun…" Her head lulled against his.

Her brief moment of reprieve did not last long, however. Sasuke reached down, grabbed the notebook from her hand, and frowned. The last several lines were complete scribbles and made no sense at all. He tossed the book on the floor and twisted her around roughly.

"Sasuke-kun?" Her head tilted in confusion at his apparent anger.

Leaning in to her swollen red lips, he sucked on the bottom before reprimanding her.

"You didn't listen to everything I said." She couldn't help but shiver as a dangerous smirk appeared on his devilishly handsome face.

"Now I'll have to give you extra lessons."

Her mouth opened to ask what he was talking about but clamped back down when the Uchiha grabbed her hips and thrust her against him.

"I-Is that…" Her eyes widened as she felt something hard pressed against her.

Instead of receiving a response, Sasuke's mouth crashed down upon hers in another demanding kiss.

.

.

Yes. He was going to make her answer to his every demand, because no one forgets about a lunch date with him. Especially not Haruno Sakura.


	3. Twisted Part I

**Rating: **M for sexual content

**Genre:** Romance/Angst

**Summary: **Sasuke realizes he's twisted.

**Author's Notes: **I should probably work on my other fic but this idea just came to me and I decided to write it down... A bit of a ramble, really. I like Sasuke as a tortured soul, lol. Turning this into a collection of oneshots. Thank you so much for the reviews!

* * *

**Twisted**

The seconds ticked by on the large grandfather clock located in some dark hallway of the Uchiha compound. Each _tick _reverberating throughout the empty house, seemingly bouncing off the walls and growing louder.

A pale, dark haired male sat in a rather uncomfortable wooden chair, located in a large room of which the only accessory was a bed and a bedside table with a vase of shriveling daffodils. The constant _ticking_ of the incessant clock echoed loudly in his ears. On more than one occasion, he mused that the infernal _ticking _was a countdown to his ever-waning sanity.

His dull eyes remained focused on the prone body lying on the bed before him. Soft, shoulder length pink hair sprawled out on the pillow the girl's head rested on. She wore a dark red, loosely fitted red kimono with pastel outlines of the flower she received her namesake. Her slender arms lay outstretched on either side of her small frame, the only part of her body aside from her neck and head that was above the bed sheets. Her facial features were soft and feminine, forever holding a sense of purity and innocence that most people lose when they enter adulthood. If her eyes were open, they'd reveal a spectacular pair of vibrant green eyes that shine with a mixture warmth and a fiery intensity for life.

But alas, those eyes remained shut. Hiding their beauty from the world in an eternal sleep.

As the male watched over her, he remained deep in contemplation. He longed to see those green eyes filled with life once more. To hear her voice, like music, ring through his ears. He wants so badly for his sleeping beauty to wake up, but he is no prince, and she is no princess. So, he sits and waits by her side, day after day, listening to the seconds tick by. Listening as he comes one second closer to the brink.

He shifts in his chair, trying to find a position that bodes well with his aching back, the ache a clear indication of hours spent unmoving. Soon, he gives up and accepts the pain, because the presence of physical pain is a useful distraction to the constant ache in his heart. Physical pain is good, he thinks, because it's part of his punishment.

Punishment for harming something so pure and innocent as the creature before him.

.

.

.

It happened in a flash. A tremendous fight between best friends and companions; torn apart by power and revenge. Brother against brother. The battle lasts for hours, but as it draws to a close, one stands over the other. Without hesitation, his arm lights up with electricity and the sound of a thousand birds chirps menacingly in the air. He drives down, prepared to take a life but time appears to slow down and in that moment he remembers growing up with this loud-mouthed blonde, going on missions together, and learning all the basics about being a ninja with him.

Suddenly, he wants to stop, but gravity is bearing down on him and the momentum of his fist is carrying him forward, directly in the path of that annoying orange-wearing boy. He doesn't want to kill a brother. Not again! But he's helpless to stop it. He shuts his eyes, preparing for impact.

The first thing he feels is the warmth that embraces his hand and forearm. The sound of his hand tearing through flesh and bone soon follow. The unmistakable snapping of bone, the squelch of skin and blood, and the agonizing gasp of pain before his hand springs through the other side of the body. His eyes remain locked shut for what feels like eternity, but for what can only be a few seconds. Slowly he opens them, not wanting to see the carnage before him but powerless to resist. He remains unmoving, rooted in place, as she stumbles against his chest. The only thing he can see is pink hair and blood. He wants to pull back, yank his arm out and run away but she rests a hand on his shoulder and her head plants firmly against his chest. Her labored breathing turns into shallow pants. Then, her body starts to lose all functioning and her hand slips from his shoulder to fall limp at her side. She starts to fall forward but his free hand grabs her to keep her upright; his other hand is still impaling her chest.

Somehow, even in such a state, the pink haired female manages to sputter out his name through all the blood she's coughing up, and against every fiber of his body's wishes, he looks down at her and meets those green eyes for one last time before she closes them forever. Faintly, she smiles at him with the last of her energy before falling completely limp in his arms.

This is the cost of his revenge and betrayal.

.

.

.

It was a miracle, really, that Tsunade was able to stabilize her condition. In took every trick the Hokage had and then some, but she persevered for her own reasons. She never wants to witness another precious person of hers to pass away. Unfortunately, her efforts fall short. Despite normalizing the body and brain functioning, her beloved student remains trapped in an inexplicable coma.

Days later, Sasuke is recalled from his prison cell to the Hokage's office. Surrounded by the company of his sole remaining teammate, sensei and the village elders, he waits to hear his punishment in silence, numb and barely aware of the world around him.

_Death_, he hopes. It's the only thing that will release him from this eternal hell he's living. It's the maximum sentence and the only thing worthy for someone who betrays their village, turns on a brother and inflicts a serious, long-term injury on a teammate.

Instead, he receives a punishment much worse.

"_Uchiha Sasuke. You are to be the primary caretaker of Haruno Sakura. From this day forth you will house her and ensure that every necessity is taken to preserve her health and wellbeing. Should you fail to live up to this responsibility, you will be declared an enemy of Konoha and all your rights and property will be revoked." _

Silence stretches through the room as he contemplates the words spoken. He opens his mouth, ready to refuse and accept whatever punishment comes with being an enemy of Konoha, but the blonde woman speaks once more.

Her voice is softer than just a minute ago, _"Remember Uchiha, Sakura gave up everything in order to bring you back. For the sake of her last wishes, I trust you will make the right decision._"

He is helpless to object.

.

.

.

When she first arrives in his house, he takes every effort to be free of her company and away from the constant reminder of his horrible actions. He trains outside all day, until he's haggard and barely left with any breath. He makes sure to sleep in a room on the opposite side of the house. He uses every excuse possible to avoid her. The only time he comes into contact with her is when he has to change the intravenous fluid, which provides her with the necessary nutrition needed for survival. When the nurses come to check on her twice a week, he stands at the doorway to the room, never closer.

He doesn't want to see her, he doesn't want to look at her, he doesn't want to be reminded of what he did to her.

This continues for months, until one day, for some inexplicable reason, he finds himself standing at her bedside and looking over her lithe body. She's a shadow of her former self. A pale reflection; nothing more than the outer shell. Her hair is course and overgrown, her skin is dry and lips cracking from lack of moister. The sight makes the colour drain from his face.

Quickly, he departs from the room and uses every skill he possesses to scratch the image from his mind, promising to himself that he'll never get so close to her again.

.

.

.

A week passes and, despite his best efforts, he still he cannot erase the image from his thoughts.

He curses, kicks and punches as he trains late into the evening. Hating himself for being so weak. If he was stronger, like Naruto or Kakashi, he'd be able to sit by her side, smile at her, talk to her, scream at her, anything! But he's a coward who should be dead. He's denied even that.

Every waking moment the image of her frail body hovers in his consciousness, drawing him in. He starts walking past the hallway that leads to her room daily, for no reason. This continues for days. Then, he finds himself at the door to her room. He stands there, wanting to go in but desperately wanting to flee at the same time. He stands for several minutes at a time before finally pulling himself away.

It becomes a ritual. Every day he returns to her door through some compulsion to be near her. Each day he stands there longer than the previous, and the effort it takes to pull his feet away grows, as if there's some kind of magnetic force field that intensifies its pull with every visit he makes.

.

.

.

In some twisted way, he grows accustomed to the nightmares he has each night of her broken form in his arms. Of that ghostly smile that graced her lips the moment she gave into unconsciousness. It's the only time he gets to see those vibrant green eyes of hers looking up at him.

He wakes with a start, labored breathing filling the dark room. The sheets are twisted around his body, damp from the cold sweat covering his body. He wipes the sweat from his forehead and leaves his face buried in his hands as he tries to catch his breath.

Another vivid dream of _that _day. He grits his teeth, annoyed by his anguish.

His mind flashes to the image of her helpless body lying in the bed, so close yet so far away. Then, suddenly, the thought grips his mind. _Is she alright?! Has she finally succumbed to her eternal sleep tonight? _

The irrational fear creeps into every corner of his body. That familiar, cold numbness sneaks its way into his toes and ascends through his blood, up to his knees, thighs, stomach, until it grips his heart in a frosty chill. It's one of those mind-consuming fears that infects every cell and nerve in the body, until the chest tingles and it's impossible to think of the most basic tasks, like how to breathe. One of those fears where thinking of death is actually a comfort, because then all of this will mean nothing and that pathetic excuse of a life you lived finally ceases to exist.

He throws the sheets off and jumps out of bed, moving quicker with each step until he finds himself in an all out run to her room. Without a moment's hesitation he throws the door open with such force that it's unhinged from the wall and tumbles loudly to the floor, but the sound is forgotten and ignored. He rushes to her side and leans down, his ear hovering over her nose and lips. He stands unmoving anxiously waiting. Waiting. Until at last, he feels the soft exhale of air brush against him and can finally let out a shaky breath.

The relief hits him like a wave and he finds his body giving out beneath him. His head falls against her chest, buried in the sheets that divide them, his arms sprawl out over her sleeping form and legs bent to kneel against the side of the bed for support.

_She's still alive._

His fingers draw inward as he pulls himself closer, feeling the rise and fall of her chest, listening to that steady heart beat, breathing in her scent as if it's essential to his survival. The sweet aroma wafts in through his nose, making his chest and brain feel light and tingly. He stays like that, immobile for minutes, maybe hours, until he finally turns his head too look at her.

She's so peaceful and relaxed looking that he can almost pretend she's merely asleep in his bed, about to wake up at a moment's notice. He watches her, like one watches a lover, memorizing the steady rise of her chest, the dip of her collar bone, the curve of her neck, the outline of her lips, and the way her hair falls on the pillow like a pink halo. His hand snakes up to those pink tresses, overgrown through months of neglect. He takes a lock of hair in his fingers, rubbing it between his thumb and his index finger before bringing it to his lips. Once, petal soft hair is now course with split ends.

As he brushes her hair across his lips he frowns. It's not right. She always paid careful attention to her hair. It probably took several hours a week for her to keep it so healthy and kept.

He feels a prickle of anger form in his heart. How could he let her get into such a state. It's unforgiveable. She gave up everything to see him returned to his birthplace. She sacrificed herself so that he wouldn't have to live with the sorrow of having killed his best friend. She loved him incessantly despite all the grave crimes he committed. Yet here he was, failing in the most basic tasks of caring for her hair.

With a great deal of effort he pulls himself up. He doesn't really want to move but the problem concerning her hair possesses his body to act on its own accord. Slowly, he pulls back the covers, unveiling her entire form to him. Something pulls at his heart but he ignores it, instead bending down to snake his arms beneath her knees and back. He pulls her up, resting her snugly against his chest as he carries her out of her room for the first time since she arrived in it. His eyes remain stuck on her face, as he walks down the hall.

He twists and turn with expert grace until he reaches his destination. It's a bathroom located on his side of the house. Her side is too much of a reminder that she's damaged and broken.

Carefully, he sets his precious cargo down in the large tub, paying particular attention to support the base of her skull in his hand. He brushes the loose strands of hair off her face. With equal gentleness, he slides the loose fitting kimono off her shoulders, letting it pool in a heap around her mid-section. Aware of her modesty, he keeps his eyes plastered on her face, never once letting them wander to forbidden places. Then he reaches up with his spare hand and turns the faucet to let lukewarm water rivet down her forehead and through her hair. He tilts her head back further, to prevent the waters liquid tendrils from working their way down the plane of her neck and chest.

When her hair is wet and matted to her face, he grabs a bottle of shampoo from the ledge and slowly works his hand into her scalp, massaging and combing through her tangled hair as he lathers the soap deep into every crevice. He does the same with the conditioner, slowly easing his fingers through her hair and relishing the way it clings to his hand in the same way that a newborn wraps it's fingers around that of its parents.

He rings the water out and sets her up against the edge of the tub, being sure to fasten the kimono back around her chest before he fetches a brush hidden somewhere in one of the drawers beside the sink. He spends a good 30 minutes combing her hair, making sure to get every little knot out of the way. It's almost perfect but he hesitates a moment, deep in thought as he tries to discover what's missing.

It strikes him as he sweeps some hair off the small of her back. The length isn't right.

Quickly, he departs and returns with a kunai of which he uses to trim her hair and return it to its proper, shoulder-length style. When he's done, he takes a moment to admire his handiwork. It's the first time he's cut someone's hair that is not his own.

Washing her hair becomes part of their daily routine. He promises himself that he will never let her hair grow course again. He will never let it lose its luster because one day, his sleeping beauty might open her eyes and he didn't think he could look at them without a twinge of guilt knowing he didn't take the best of care of her.

.

.

.

He starts to sit with her after he trains in the morning, and then again in the evening. It's getting more and more difficult to concentrate on training with Naruto or Kakashi because the entire time his body wants to be somewhere else. Even when they're talking to him, his thoughts are on her. It's an antsy feeling where his body stands on edge as if a constant electrical current is running through him.

He receives no escape, even at night, because she consumes his unconscious mind then too.

Having to eat ramen with Naruto after days of begging is particularly tortuous. He only gives in to avoid the questioning stares that focus their attention on him every time he denies the request. Through the entire meal, his body screams at him in a desperate plead to get back to her side.

Amidst the one-sided laughter, the blonde male turns serious as he clears his throat and looks over his friend with concern.

"_She'd want you to be happy Sasuke," _his tone is barely above a whisper.

Dark eyes stare blankly into compassionate blue ones, before he suddenly sets down his money and departs.

He's already been away from her for too long.

.

.

.

The days blend together and before he knows it, it's been a year since their lives became entwined.

He finds himself staring at her unmoving form, like so often he does. On this particular occasion, his attention is stuck on her pink lips. He oddly wonders if it's possible for someone's lips to grow stuck together through lack of use but shakes the thought from his head. Then he focuses on the slight cracks that mar those formerly soft, moist lips. He can almost remember the way they quirked up in an insecure smile after she would ask him out on a date during their genin days.

Without realizing it, he finds his fingers dancing along the edges of her lower lip, tracing left and right. He catches himself wondering what it'd feel like to have those lips on his.

The thought disturbs him and he quickly takes his leave, vowing never to let his thoughts wander like that again.

.

.

.

Sitting in his familiar spot, he takes a bite from a deliciously ripe tomato, catching the juices with his hand before it can slide past his neck and onto his chest. It's a rare moment of what could be described as satisfaction, only broken by the sound of rustling fabric that reaches his ears.

Glancing up, his breath catches in his throat. The tomato drops, forgotten on the floor as he sees two half-lidded green eyes gazing up at him.

"This… has to be a dream" he says breathlessly. He's paralyzed in his seat, afraid to move and break the illusion.

She winces slightly as she tries, unsuccessfully, to pull herself up. He jumps up and eases her into a sitting position, still unsure if he's really awake.

"Sasuke-kun," she murmurs softly, that gentle smile gracing her beautiful features once again. It's enough to make his breath hitch in his throat.

She's awake, she's really awake! His stomach performs a flip and he _almost_ smiles.

He grabs her lithe body and holds her tightly against himself, nuzzling his face in her neck and sighing deeply.

She giggles lightly, running her fingers through his messy black hair. For the first time in a long while, he feels alive. A flame lights in his chest and the urgency to get even closer itches at his side. His tongue darts out, brushing against her throat. She gasps, and pulls him closer. He starts kissing along her neck, travelling up to her face before pausing above her lips.

"Why are you stopping?" She licks her lips to moisten them, gazing at him with eyes full of yearning.

The sight sends any semblance of self-control he possessed out of door and into oblivion. He climbs on top of her, straddling her hips as pulls her into a hot and needy kiss. His tongue runs along the bottom lip and unhesitatingly she opens her mouth, inviting him in. Their tongues dance and slide along each other, each clinging to the other as if they were one.

His hands are sliding down her chest, rushing to untie her obi and remove the offending material. At the same time, his hips rub against her, the ache pooling in his loins and quickly sending him over the edge. He moans into her mouth, his need quickly growing harder in his pants.

"Sakura," he gasps, starting to move more vigorously against her.

She doesn't answer, and her hand drops from his hair, landing limply at her side. He pulls back, confusion written across. As he sits back to gaze at her, he starts to feel the pull of something, wrenching him away from her prone body and into darkness.

.

He bolts upright in his bed, hot and sweaty with the sheets tossed haphazardly over his form. Shifting his legs slightly, he lets out a hiss at the painful ache between his legs.

It was all just a dream. A dream that left him with an unshakeable reminder of his treacherous thoughts.

He shuts his eyes in deep concentration, trying to will his body back under his control. Instead, he sees her lips, descending down his chest to his navel, travelling further… he releases a throaty moan. This is not what he wanted. He desperately tries to think of something, anything, else but his focus keeps returning to his pink haired teammate.

It's sick, it's disgusting. He keeps telling himself as his hand snakes down his abs and under the waistband of his boxers. There was something wrong with him. He shouldn't be thinking of her unconscious body as his hand wraps around his manhood. He groans and bites his bottom lip. She was under the same roof as him, _for God's sake!_ She's helpless and defenseless to his advances. He starts to pump himself, up and down. The entire time he pictures it not as his own hand but has hers, wrapped coyly around him as she squeezes and scrapes her fingers against him.

Faster, he strokes himself into a frenzied pace, gasping and grunting, as he draws nearer to completion. His breathing comes out in pants and sweat is dripping down his bare chest. He feels himself twitch in his hand, as he gives the final few rough strokes. Again, those maddening pink lips of hers flash through his mind in a final yank that has his hips thrusting up in release. Unabashedly his head is thrown back in a silent scream as his orgasm rips through him, sending afterquakes riveting through his body. His hot seed fills his hand and soaks his boxers. He pants, unmoving on the bed.

Absentmindedly he thinks to himself that his vow not to let his mind wander lasted less than a day.

As his afterglow leaves him, he's left with a nauseating feeling in the pit of his stomach.

He was definitely slipping.

.

.

.

It always happened the same way now. He'd lay with his head down on his pillow; thinking to himself the most remote, boring subjects to drift to sleep to. Sometimes it was challenging math equations, other times it was Naruto's yammering on about the importance of ramen to one's diet. No matter what it was, the result remained the same. He'd wake up to a coil in his stomach wound so tightly that no number of cold showers had any effect.

He had to resort to the shameful and indecent act of jerking himself off to thoughts of his female teammate who lay unconscious in his own house. At times in the middle of his lust-filled haze, the thought crossed him, what would she think if she were to wake up one night to sounds of his gasps drifting through the house?

The thought made him cum harder.

Whenever he finished, the basest form of disgust washed over him and violated him to the core. He felt dirty even after he washed away all evidence of the deed in the shower. No amount of soap or water was enough to wash away his sin.

Finally, one evening he couldn't take it anymore. He couldn't do this one more night in a row. He couldn't stand to abase himself and then look in the mirror, barely recognizing his own reflection. It felt like the skin he lived in was foreign. He hated it. He hated having no control or resolve, merely a slave to his primitive and carnal desires. Surely, there had to be a solution, something that could end this madness and set his mind straight. He never used to be like this. He was always in control; when he spent three years in Orochimaru's lair, he never once felt compelled to submit to nightly passions. When he killed Itachi and joined up with Obito, his thoughts, perhaps consumed by reckless desire for revenge, still remained pure and uninhibited by bodily need.

He never felt this way until he was forced to take care of _her. _

His fists clench at his sides as he thinks of the pititful depths he's been driven to while under her spell. Maybe this was all part of her plan. Force him to understand a whole new level of suffering for rejecting her all those years ago. He had to give it to her, this was some master plan. Manipulating his thoughts and desires until they were filled only with thoughts of her.

He storms into her room, the door never replaced since that night he tore it from its hinges. Marching up to her, he grabs her shoulders and shakes, never more frustrated or angry with this girl in his life.

"Wake up!" He bites out. She says nothing.

"Wake up," he yells again, fisting the fabric of her kimono in his hands. Still, she remains silent. He commands repeatedly, over and over, for her to wake up. He can't take it anymore.

"Please, please wake up," He starts to beg and finds himself climbing on top of her, pinning her body under his and shaking her again, in a desperate plight to rouse her. It doesn't succeed.

"I… I can't go on like this anymore," he feels unfamiliar hot liquid escape from his eyes and watches as they fall unceremoniously on the unconscious body below. Soon, they're rolling down in an uncontrollable stream, dampening her clothes, neck and face.

He grits his teeth as he leans his head closer to hers.

"If you wake up," he finds himself pleading with her, "I'll do anything you want." His pleas fall on deaf ears.

After a few, unmoving minutes, he lets his heavy head rest against hers.

"Do you really hate me this much," he murmurs against her with tears caught in his lashes.

This must be her revenge.

He grows mesmerized by the feel of her shallow breath brushing across his face. It makes him forget why he came here in the first place, or why he's straddling her with her lips mere millimeters apart from his own. Again, curiosity takes hold of him, making him wonder what it'd feel like to have their lips connected as one. He can't resist, it's like gravity pulling him down.

His lips graze against hers, softly at first. They remain still, as if testing her reaction to his touch. Of course, she does nothing. His tongue darts out, cautiously, moistening those dry lips of hers before he presses against her more firmly.

If he could just…

He takes hold of her chin, forcing her mouth open and delving that hot, slick tongue of his deeper inside her mouth. Melding his lips to hers, he hungrily devours all that he can, roughly claiming her mouth with his. Their saliva mixes and reaches every corner of her mouth.

It's even better than he imagined it would be.

With a sigh, he pulls back, the need for air too great to continue satisfying his wanton curiosity. The sight of a string of saliva connecting their mouths is enough to make him groan, as a shiver travels down his spine. He wants more, he _needs_ more.

A roll of the hips against hers is enough to snap him from his reverie. The illusion broken by the realization of his twisted desire.

He draws back in disgust, wiping his filthy mouth with the back of his hand and quickly scampers off her as if she's a deadly toxin. He backs away in partial disbelief, his eyes lingering on her form for only a moment before he quickly hurries out of the room. Making it to the bathroom, thoughts of his sick perversion force him to retch up a mixture of dinner and stomach acid into the toilet.

As he sits there with his head pressed against the cool porcelain of the toilet seat, he crumbles. It's too much to bear.

He's a monster. A sick, disgusting monster.


	4. Twisted Part II

**Rating: **M for Sexual Content

**Author's Notes: **Decided to go ahead and write a part two. I might make it a trilogy, though there are still some things I need to work out. You will find that Sasuke's views are growing more distorted (I hope). Though I may also have twisted reader's into finding his actions rational? I hope you enjoy! Please drop a review if you can~! It keeps me motivated!

* * *

**Twisted, Part II**

Pushing his way past the guards outside the Hokage's office, Sasuke forced the doors open with such force that they slammed loudly against the walls and left small indents. He didn't care though, his mind was possessed by a single thought; a sole determination that needed to be fulfilled.

He slams his hands down on the desk, demanding the attention of the blonde woman, who tries to ignore his grand, dramatic entrance by keeping her head buried in the scroll before her.

"Tsunade!" He snaps loudly and without the slightest bit of respect for her exalted office. He learned long ago that this woman was far more sadistic than she appears, because only a person who's perfected the art of inflicting torment on others would pick such a _perfect _punishment for him.

She makes him wait.

"What is it, Uchiha?" She peers up at him, anger written clear across her face.

"I demand that you remove her from my care," he bites out, not at all caring if he crosses this woman.

The anger fades from Tsunade's face. She can't say she didn't expect this day to come, in fact, she expected him to come to her months ago but now that he's standing here before her, it's surprising nonetheless. Behind the disrespect and anger, there's a certain desperation in his voice that's hard to ignore. She decides to push him a bit, in an effort to get a glimpse further behind the mask that he wears so well.

"Remove who?"

His expression falters for a split second, repulsed by her feign of ignorance. Such a crafty, evil woman.

"You _know _who," he grits out, eyes narrowed dangerously. He doesn't have time to play games. He has to see this matter settled, and settled straight away while he still possessed an ounce of his sanity, of his self-control and self-respect.

"For what reason would I do that?" The blonde woman examines him with rapt attention; her tone filled with childlike curiosity.

"I just," he pauses and rubs his temple in frustration, "I need her out. I can't be near her any longer. It's… too _hard_." He fumes, biting the last word out like it's poison. Honestly, making him admit something that sounded so pathetic, this woman really was the devil.

"It's hard?" She scoffs. "A punishment isn't supposed to be easy, Uchiha."

"I _know_ that," he spits out in insult. But, this was more than a punishment. This was worse than a life sentence, worse than death. It was Hell on Earth. All those years that he trained with Orochimaru, the weeks he served as a member of Akatsuki, an alley with Madara; the time he turned his blade on Naruto or tried with actual conviction to strike _her _down with his chidori and then a kunai. In those times people thought he was a monster. What would they think of him now, if they knew even half the things he wanted to do to her. With her _body_.

Again, his anger flared and the wood desk started to crack under the weight of his chakra laced hands. The adrenaline coursing through his veins made his eyes bleed red, revealing his clan's cursed sharingan.

"How long do you expect me to keep her? I can't look at her anymore; I need her to be gone."

The woman sitting before him instantly stood up, meeting the raven haired male with equal ferocity.

"You will keep her for as long as it is necessary."

The two engage in a silent battle of the eyes, refusing to give way to the other. Sasuke's eyes narrow faintly, his heavy breathing a clear indication of his ire. _As long as it is necessary? _Necessary for what? To drive him crazy? To make him suffer? Repent? He felt every single one of them. Not a day or minute, or even a second went by where he didn't feel guilty. Where he didn't hate himself for existing. Just what did she want from him? For him to grovel at her feet, begging for forgiveness? Or maybe, for him to throw himself on his sword and end it all himself. Perhaps then, she would recognize it was necessary.

Tsunade sighed, surprising her counterpart, and shook her head.

"You still haven't learned your lesson."

What.

His hands balled into fist with such force that his knuckles turned a clear and distinct white. _This woman. _Not only was she a sadist, she was also stupid. How could she possibly say that. He didn't learn his lesson? He lived with it every day when his pink haired teammate's words echoed through his mind. _Revenge won't make you happy, nor me_. How ironic, how prophetic, that the one who uttered those words was the one lying unconscious.

"I have." His voice was dangerously low.

"You have _not_. Otherwise you wouldn't be here right now." The blonde returned to her chair, releasing an exasperated sigh.

Sasuke takes a step back, observing the woman with his default indifferent expression. His lips remain sealed in a straight line as her words repeat in his mind. He doesn't understand. She's speaking nonsense.

"Now. Unless there is some other reason, aside from it being _hard_, that Sakura," he flinches, "should not remain under your care…" Her voice fades off as she regards the Uchiha expectantly.

Reasons? He can think of a million. She's making him lose his senses. He's going to hurt her. Take advantage of her. Take something of hers without permission. He'll do things to her that would shock and disgust even the lowliest of criminals.

He opens his mouth to speak, to tell her all of his worries but his voice gets caught in his throat. It's the right thing to do. Any normal person would seek help, to stop themself from committing some unspeakable act. It was his duty to protect her.

But.

He pictures her soft pink hair, her red lips, her alabaster skin. He sees her lying in that bed of hers, in his house. Who would take care of her? Who would keep that hair in pristine condition? Moreover, the mere thought of her being gone, far away from his gaze, it pulls at his heart. Surely, they would never let him see her again if he admitted to being a danger around her? He couldn't…

His eyes widen a fraction of an amount at the realization.

He couldn't live apart from her.

"I…" He knows what the right thing to do is, except…

"There is no other reason."

There is no doubt about it. He is a selfish, unkind person.

"Good. Then you may kindly show yourself out." Tsunade gives one last nod before turning her attention back down to the paperwork on her desk.

When he makes it out of the Hokage's office, he releases a relieved sigh he wasn't even aware of holding. He was…

Relieved?

Just how awful could he be.

.

.

.

Obsidian eyes stared down at the pink form before him, her listless body still teasing his mind on a daily, and nightly, basis. It had been a week since he visited Tsunade and despite his acceptance that he could not do away with her, he felt worse than ever.

How many times?

How many times did he ask her to wake up? Beg her for a sign. _Anything_. Just to indicate she was at least partially aware of her own, continued state of existence? All he needed was the slightest movement, a twitch of the finger or toe, to know that there was at least some reason for hope. Yet, she was unforgiving and unmoved by his pleas. She denied him again and again.

He held up a kunai to her neck. What was the point in her living this half-life? It would be a courtesy to end this shell of a body she'd become.

Bending down slowly, he lowered his lips to her ears. Shaking off the shiver that ran down his spine as he breathed in her aroma, he spoke in an unnervingly calm voice.

"Give me a _sign._" His eyes darted to every part of her body, waiting. Watching.

Nothing.

"If you don't do something now, I'll end this. We'll both be free."

Again, he waited. He waited for many minutes, until at least an hour passed.

"Fine, have it your way," he hisses out in annoyance.

Pulling back, he glares at the kunai against her neck with an unrivalled intensity, as if willing it to move on its own. He presses with a bit more force before abruptly yanking his arm back.

No. He couldn't hurt her.

But, his eyes glint maliciously as he holds the kunai up to his own wrist. He _could _spare himself and be rid of this world. Once he was gone, she wouldn't be his responsibility anymore, so whatever happened to her wouldn't have to weigh on his conscience. He suffered all his life, why should he endure it any longer.

"I'll free you of my existence. Maybe then, you'll be able to wake up."

Closing his eyes, he presses down. Slowly, slowly, until the sharp metal blade starts to break the surface and a few drops of blood drip on the white sheets he's standing over. He has to press harder if he wants to do serious damage, but he wants to look at her while he does it. He wants to sear her image into his mind during the entire ordeal.

Dark eyes flutter open, expecting to find relief in his decision but instead, he sees something _curious_. His eyes narrow in an effort to comprehend and he leans down closer for greater inspection. What he sees makes his heart skip a beat.

A tear?!

A single tear rolls down her cheek. Her soft, beautiful cheek.

Instantly he launches the kunai into the wall opposite him in pure, unadulterated disgust and he hastily climbs onto the bed beside her to pull her into his arms in a tight embrace. One hand holds her back firmly against him, while the other tangles into that exquisite pink hair of hers and holds her head against his. Cheek against cheek, he whispers breathlessly into her ear.

"I'm so sorry," He squeezes her and closes his eyes to control the escape of fresh tears, so uncharacteristic of him. How could he, for a second, think to be parted from her? So long as she breaths, he will remain on this earth. He kisses her on the forehead.

"I'll never leave you. I'll wait as long as you need, I swear. Please, forgive me," he softly begs, while holding her dear.

He falls asleep with her in his arms.

For her, he can suffer a little bit more.

.

.

.

Warm sunlight streams in through the window opposite the wall of the bed. It's a refreshing symbol. Today, is the start of a new day. No matter how dark the night can be, the bright light of the sun always pierces through come dawn.

Sasuke snuggles closer to the warmth next to him. He buries his head in the crook of her neck, tightens his fingers around the hip his arm rests upon. Basking in the suns warm glow, he feels oddly satisfied. For the first time he can remember, his dreams were not plagued by nightmares and he actually slept through the entire night without rousing once.

How _remarkable_.

Did she possess secret powers that could induce a dreamless sleep? Possibly. She was a healer, after all.

He couldn't help but smile as his lips brushed against her neck, planting a small, chaste kiss. And another. And another. Because, one is never enough. Carefully, he rolls her on her back so he can prop her chin open and claim that mouth of hers in a slow, sensual kiss.

When he pulls back, he stares at her for a brief moment before kissing her cheek and sliding his legs off the bed. His measure of control is better today than normal.

Maybe he's improving?

.

.

Or, just giving into insanity.

.

.

.

"Ne, ne, Teme!" An obnoxious blonde jogs eagerly to catch up. Sasuke's response is to ignore him.

"Teme! I know you can hear me. Don't be such an ass," Said blonde grabs hold of the Uchiha's sleeve and whirls him around to force his undivided attention.

Sasuke glares at the arm grabbing hold of him, deeply disapproving of its presence. His hard eyes then travel up bright blue ones. What he wants to do, is tell the blonde to _piss off_, but the look on his face is telling him that's not going to work today.

"Some of the guys are going out to the bar, you should come." He can tell by the way Naruto said the word _should_, that he was leaving out any room for argument, and the way his pleading eyes implored him accentuated the point. Yet, the thought of spending the entire evening in a crowded bar with irritating people was far from appealing. He just wanted to go home and be with her.

Curtly, he replies. "I'm busy." Moving to leave, he lightly tugged on his sleeve, ready to be done with this conversation.

Unfortunately, his friend was not ready to end it and tightened his grip to prevent Sasuke from getting far.

"Just come. Kakashi and Shikamaru will be there."

Really. He didn't care at all who was there. All he cared about was who _wasn't._

"No, thank you." His reply was harsher than the words implied.

"_Sasuke_." Naruto used authoritative tone. "It isn't healthy, what you're doing."

Sasuke's eyes narrowed. The blonde didn't really have any idea of what he was _doing. _If he did, he'd probably beat him to a pulp. But, he supposed it was impossible to hide from his teammates how much time he spent in his abode.

"How long are you going to punish yourself?" Naruto's voice softened and he let go of Sasuke's sleeve. "It isn't what she would want."

It was hard not to punch Naruto in the face. How did he know what she wanted? Did he really know her so much better than anyone else that he presumed to know exactly what she did and didn't want? Still, he refrained from verbalizing his thoughts because it'd just cause further trouble for himself.

Several seconds of silence stretches between the two, until at last, Sasuke's shoulders begin to sag. He's defeated. It's clear he can't win this so he must relent. He doesn't have Naruto's stamina or confidence to press the issue.

"Come." The blonde turns and begins to walk in whatever direction the bar is.

Sasuke follows with heavy steps.

.

.

.

It was maddening. Frustrating. Irritating. Annoying. Absolutely, eating him alive.

How long had he been in this sitting at this table. In this bar. His knuckles were white from gripping the edge of the table so tightly. Every cell in his body wanted to flee. Get out of this place. Return to her and promise never, _never, _to go out again. But, every time he made a move to get up, or even _shifted_ in his seat, Naruto's blue eyes were on him, holding him steadfast.

He wants to leave so bad.

Glancing at the clock, he noticed it was only 10 o'clock. How had he seriously only been her for one hour. The thought instantly crossed his mind; did someone put some powerful genjutsu on this place to slow time down?

His sight returned to the companions currently occupying the same table space as him. They were telling jokes and laughing over ridiculously stupid things. Even Kakashi seemed slightly amused. How was it possible that they could be so light-hearted when _she _was broken?

Was he the only one who truly cared for her?

Or…

_How long are you going to punish yourself?_

_It isn't what she would want. _

Is it possible that they…

Were happy _for _her.

Is it really ok to move on with life? Respect someone's wishes by being… happy?

Sasuke frowned. He had never simply let go when someone he knew and cared about deeply died. When his family died, he sought revenge by killing Itachi. When Itachi died, he sought revenge by going after village elders. With Sakura… well, he was the one with blood on his hands and so deserved to be punished. But if what Naruto said is true—

"Teme, you're draining the life out of the table over there," Naruto deadpanned. The raven haired male responded with a glare that easily portrayed his thoughts, _I didn't ask to come here._

Suddenly, the blonde's face lit up and he snickered a little, glancing over his shoulder to the bar table at the back of the bar. Leaning in, he covered the side of his mouth with his hand to prevent unwanting eyes from reading his lips.

"That woman back there," he subtly pointed to a brunette female with an incredibly short skirt and low cut top, "keeps eyeing you. She's totally into you."

Sasuke continued to stare at him, completely void of any emotion. _Why would he care about some woman. _

"You should make a move." Naruto winked at his friend, who in turn, gave a slight scowl.

The very notion that he go talk to some random woman. He couldn't even dignify that with a response.

"C'mon Sasuke, it might _help_."

Help him to forget? To move on? Like everyone else seemed to do so well.

Or…

Perhaps it would help to tame his wanton thoughts on a certain pink haired female. Prevent him from touching her inappropriately. From doing something no one on earth could forgive. Perhaps, the reason she was the one in all his fantasies was simply because he was around her all the time.

He glanced over at the female, then back to Naruto and sighed.

"C'mon, go for it!" The blonde urged him on again.

This didn't feel right.

Slowly. Slowly, he stood from his seat. Ignoring the stares everyone at the table gave him. Every part of his body felt like yanking him back down. His stomach instantly filled with something heavy and weighted. He didn't want to go. It felt like his body was screaming at him to turn back, but… he had to do this. He had to try for her, right?

With a gnawing feel in his gut, he forced his feet to obey. Forced himself to sit next to the woman despite the way his legs tingled, as if ready to give way beneath him.

The woman turned and looked at him. She smirked, not smiled. Instantly it made his skin crawl. That was not the innocent, soft expression he wanted to see.

"Hey there handsome, I'm Ayame," she leaned forward and reached out her hand for a shake. _Too close. _

"Sasuke." Somehow he managed to force his name out, albeit gruffly, but he completely ignored her outstretched hand.

"Ah, not much of a talker are we?" Her index finger temporarily made contact with the centre of his chest as she spoke, "that's ok though. I like tall, dark and handsome."

The contact burned. Not the way _her _touches made him burn with need. This touch elicited a burning sensation that made bile rise in his throat. Her voice wasn't soft and cheerful like it should be. It was sultry and filled with seduction. The way it echoed in his ears made him want to pound his hands against his eardrums and rip them out.

She leaned in further, slipping off the chair and landing with her chest flush against his arm and the side of his body. It absolutely made him nauseous. She wasn't supposed to be all over him like that. She wasn't supposed to be dressed so scantily. She was supposed to be modest and shy to his touch. This woman. She didn't blush at all. His hand twitched at his side. He didn't like this. Was this really supposed to help him? It made him feel utterly disgusted.

"How bout," her mouth brushed against his ear as she whispered more deeply, "we take this some place more private." He felt her hand drop to his knee and start to ascend. Up his leg, up his thigh, moving toward—

This was all wrong. This woman… this _thing _before him… she did not have the right voice. She did not have the right expression. She did not have the right lips. Her eyes were all wrong. Her hair was definitely without a doubt the completely wrong colour. She didn't act how she was supposed to. Everything about her was _wrong_. She was not _her_.

He saw white.

"Get. Off. Me." His eyes blazed red and narrowed dangerously. The woman immediately glanced up, eyes wide in fear from his dark voice. She remained helplessly frozen as he stood, with his full height above her.

**_How dare she._**

How dare she touch him like that. How dare she even look at him. This disgusting, awful, pathetic excuse of a woman.

Then, he shoved her. He shoved her with all the force he would an enemy and prayed to God her neck would snap in the fall.

His hopes fell short.

Maybe she would've been badly injured, if Naruto didn't jump in and catch her as she flew backwards.

In the next instant, Kakashi grabbed one of his arms and held it awkwardly against his back, so that if he moved or resisted pain would shoot up his arm and to his shoulder.

Both men were alerted to the dangerous spike in his chakra.

"Teme, what the hell is wrong with you!" Naruto grit out angrily as he steadied the woman to her feet. It was such a bizarre and sudden outburst. Sasuke was supposed to be the cool, calm, collected one, not hurdling a poor woman across the room.

Sasuke continued to glare, still trying to catch his breath, which had sped up dramatically in his anger. He still wanted to go over and pound that woman into the ground. He didn't know _why_.

Slowly regaining control over his emotions, his sharingan slipped from his eyes, returning to their usual obsidian colour.

"Come on, Sasuke." His sensei led him out the bar, not releasing him until they were several meters outside. Even when he released him, the gray haired man continued to eye his student warily, searching for some kind of answer as to why he would behave so roughly. It had been pure rage that leaked out of him. He meant to do actual harm.

"Sasuke, why did you behave in such a way?" Kakashi asked slowly, his perceptive eyes taking in every detail. He noticed the way his student's eyes remained distant, as if thinking of something entirely far away, and the way he kept his body slightly hunched over.

Sasuke waited until he leveled his breathing and calmed his heartbeat to its usual steady pace before turning to face the other man completely. Seamlessly, he slipped back into his usual blank mask. He just had to get away from here as quickly as possible. Running his head through his raven hair, he let out a slow, deep exhale before speaking.

"I must've had too much to drink," his voice was almost bored, but he kept his unblinking gaze steadfast with the older man's, as if challenging him to refute the claim.

Finally, Kakashi relented, bowing his head slightly to let out a sigh.

"Go home and get some sleep."

He disappeared into the night without uttering another word.

Kakashi turned quickly on his heels and headed back into the bar. As he returns to the table, his eyes narrow slightly. Looking over at the seat Sasuke had been occupying, he frowns.

His sake remained untouched, full to the brim.

.

.

.

It was with urgency that he rushed to her bedside, and without the slightest bit of hesitation, he slipped under the covers and buried himself in her warmth and familiar scent. He reaches his hand up to her face and starts to run his fingers delicately through her hair, enchanting him like so many times before.

His reaction at the bar tonight, it was now undeniable proof to himself that the only touch he craved was that of the woman he now lay with. No one else. Only her. Just thinking about being with someone else made his stomach tie in knots. There's no way she could possibly want him to move on. Not with someone else. There's just no way, because everything about it felt so wrong. It went against nature.

Yes. He needed her.

The memory of that woman's lips against his ear, her hand on his thigh; it was revolting. The mere thought… he had cleanse himself. Somehow.

His fingers left her hair and his thumb brushed along her lips. It only took a few sweeps across her lower lip before he had his answer. He pulled down her chin and filled that small mouth of hers with his greedy, hungry tongue. Her mouth was delicious, he didn't think he could ever get enough of it. He was addicted and needed more.

Quickly he leaned his weight on his free arm and left knee, swinging the other leg around her body so he could hover above her and get a better angle into that sweet mouth of hers.

Only when the need for air became necessary did he draw back. Deep breaths filled the room as he studied her face, while catching his breath. Her lips were reddened by his ministrations. It should've stopped him, reigned in his desire, but instead it made him shudder with lust. She was even more beautiful than before.

This time, when he rolled his hips against hers, he shook with want. He performed the action again and gasped. It felt. So. Good.

One of his hands slid down to her hips where he used it to lift her lower portion up slightly for greater friction. He should stop. He should definitely stop. A distant voice in his head screamed at him that this was wrong, but how could he listen to it when this definitely felt good. He kissed her as he rubbed against her until he was unbearably hard and breathing harshly against her neck.

There was no way he could stop. His hand left her hip and quickly undid the button to his pants. Roughly, he shoved them down, along with his boxers, so that his hand could move unperturbed by the material of his clothes. This was not right. He groaned as he began to pump himself. Maybe it was wrong. But. He didn't care at all anymore.

He could just imagine her wrapping her legs around his waist, dragging him in closer and crying out his name with the same, fervent need. She would be completely naked with her sweaty body clinging to his and begging, _pleading, _him to bring her to that sweet, mind-blowing conclusion.

Pumping into his hand aggressively, he stared down at her motionless face. Their bodies were so close. He could feel her body heat mingling with his. This was definitely better than all those times he had to imagine the feel of her body beneath his. He was so close to reaching that absolute high.

He groaned loudly, feeling the taut coils in his gut about to snap.

"Sa-Sakura," he growled out, tightening his grip on his member as he leaned down and roughly bit down on the spot just above her collarbone. With a final pulse he gave way, releasing himself all over her kimono.

She was his.

He panted loudly, resting his head resting against her chest. His entire body shook as his lust washed over him.

Just what power did she hold over him? He wondered this while his finger rubbed circles around the spot he marked her. She looked better with it.

When his high finally rescinded, he rolled onto his back, bringing her with him so she lay on his chest. He thought, as he drifted to sleep, that they fit together so perfectly.

Maybe he was a monster. A demon in the night, but even the sun needs the moon. She, with all her perfections, needed a monster like him to maintain harmony in this world.

.

.

Or something like that.

The simpler solution was that the seconds finally ticked down to his insanity.


	5. Twisted Part III

**Rating:** M for Sexual Content and some Course Language

**Author's Notes:** Well, possession rears its ugly head in this chapter. Sasuke is really losing his grasp on the line between right and wrong, and Naruto/Kakashi are putting the pieces together. I'll try going over this chapter again to edit a bit further, I just got so tired re-reading it a million times that I gave up even though I'm not extremely satisfied. Also, I really wanted this to be a 3-parter but somehow this part stretched on longer than I anticipated so it looks like I will have to write a fourth and final part! Argh!

As always, thank you immensely for the reviews!

Whew, had to rearrange all the chapters to keep 'Twisted' in order... guess I won't upload any more oneshots until I finish this to save me the trouble from having to rearrange things again =_=;

* * *

**Twisted (Part III) **

Sasuke grunted loudly as the built up collection electric nerves burst inside him. His vision temporarily went white as the sweet sensation washed over him, causing his body to shiver. One hand still wrapped around his manhood, the other cupping the bare breast of his pink-haired teammate. The soft mound fit so perfectly in his hand; it was a wonder if her body proportions were made specifically to fit his own.

Leaning down, his lips met hers in a sloppy kiss. He drew back and descended down to her chest, where he sucked the familiar spot just below her collarbone. It left a nice red mark. A mark he always wanted to see there and made sure to renew on a regular basis. He kissed it gently before rolling onto his back and shutting his eyes, trying to regularize his rough breathing.

"Fuck," he breathlessly cussed and ran his fingers through his hair.

It always happened like this. A twisted cycle he was helpless to escape.

He'd try to resist. Consciously remind himself every second of the day how he had to control himself. Had to control his urges so that he could get better. He truly wanted to get better. And, it usually worked. For a couple days. Sometimes, he even got to the point where a minute would pass and he hadn't even thought about touching her once. If he made it past the two-day point, he would start to think that maybe it was possible to stop. Maybe he really could be cured. One time, he even made it an incredible two weeks without touching her.

Those brief moments of optimism, however, were just that. Fleeting and impossible to hold onto because sooner or later that familiar tingling sensation started forming in his stomach. He'd take deep breaths to calm it. Yet, the itch grew stronger until it gnawed and filled his entire body with tension. Still, he'd try to white knuckle it. Will his body to ignore the unpleasant sensations that were building within him.

He had always thought he had a strong willpower.

If he could just get past that most difficult hurdle, maybe he would finally be free from these feelings. But he never did, because when his body twitched and ached with unease and the _need_ to act, his conviction always faltered. Why was he doing this again? To get better? In those moments, he could never really remember why he wanted to get better in the first place. Really. Why did he give a shit? So what if he was messed up. It felt good and erased the unpleasant ache in his belly that made his skin crawl.

He always gave in. Fell back into 'old habits' and found himself hovering over her body, not caring at all if it was wrong. When he came, a sense of relief flushed through his body and mind. The relief sometimes lasted for days. He didn't feel the slightest hint of remorse when he claimed her mouth, fondled her breasts, rubbed against her and marked her up so there was clear evidence that she belonged to him.

Then, the guilt would start to creep in and he'd again vow to himself to get better. To quit seeking the warmth and nearness of her body. The cycle started anew.

He was addicted.

It was a miracle, really, that he hadn't yet taken her completely. He thought about, but a small voice in his head told him that if he were to fill her, he'd cross an invisible boundary that he could never find his way back from. He'd truly be lost in the darkness.

Letting out another long breath, he slowly sat up, glancing down at the girl beside him. She was a mess, with the folds of her yukata hanging open around her chest and his sticky, white substance splashed all over her front.

He shifted slightly. Something about the scene made his stomach stir, but he ignored it and instead pulled her into his lap so he could slide off the bed and carry her with ease to the bathroom. Even if he would prefer just to lay in bed with her all night, she needed a bath. Experience taught him that it was best to wash up before evidence of his sin crusted over.

Setting her down gently on the tiled floor of the bathroom, he reached over and turned the knob for the hot water. As he waited for the tub to fill, undressed her. Tossing her yukata and sash into the corner, he made a quick mental note to wash it later. Then he stood and paused for a moment as he stared down at the light pink material of her underwear. It's not like he hadn't glimpsed under there before. He did bathe her on a regular basis after all. It just always felt like he was tempting himself too much by removing it.

He dragged his gaze away and leaned down to turn the running water off; dipping his hand inside the steaming water to make sure the temperature was not too hot.

He silently exhaled as his fingers danced on the surface of the water. It felt nice.

Again, he turned to the girl and hesitated as his fingers teased the edge of her panties.

He should… be alright.

Hooking his thumb under the material, he slid the small article of clothing down her thighs, past her knees, over her toes and threw it in the pile with the rest of her clothes.

In a fluid motion he lifted her up, taking care to keep his eyes on her face as he slipped the two of them into the warm bath. Even after all he's done, he still thinks to preserve her modesty. What s silly thing. He rests her back snuggly against his chest and leans against the edge of the tub. Her head resting comfortably against his shoulder, her back flush against him, and her legs stretched out between his own. The position felt… natural.

He sighed, closing his eyes as his arm wrapped around her waist to keep her from slipping.

This felt right.

It was a position that conjured up pleasant thoughts, and made it easy to pretend.

.

.

.

Tilting his head forward he inhales a familiar, floral scent. He buries his face deeper into the mess of pink hair and releases a contended sigh. The fragrance of her shampoo always makes his head start to tingle, as if his head was being massaged from the inside out. Minutes pass, while he's lost in empty thought, just enjoying the feel of her body so close to his.

He draws his legs up slightly and hears the slosh of water in response to the subtle movement. Slowly, his eyes flutter open in partial confusion.

Ah. They were still in the tub. Must have fallen asleep, because the lukewarm water now leaves his exposed skin prickled with goose bumps.

"Sakura," he breathes out quietly. Only on rare occasions did her name fall from his lips.

A shiver passes through his chest and he tightens his hold around her body so that they can share in each other's body warmth. It would be wise to drain the water and get dressed but he wants to relish this moment for a bit longer. It isn't difficult to imagine she's just fallen asleep in his arms; it's a familiar tendency among lovers, right?

Again, his eyes drift shut and he focuses purely on _feeling_. His fingers on her hip start drawing lazy circles on her skin. The simple action itself is like a form of meditation and oddly calming. His other hand descends from her abdomen to her thighs, where he slowly rubs up and down. It's not meant to be sexual in nature, just a gentle caress for the woman that is his.

_His_.

The word echoes in his mind and he can't help but smirk, because it has a nice ring to it. She was here with him. In his house. In his bath. In his arms. She had his mark bruised into her skin.

He kissed her cheek, letting his lips linger so he could concentrate on the feel of her soft skin against his lips. That's right. Her cheek, her lips, and every other inch of her body, it was his to kiss.

He teases her by bringing his fingers dangerously close to that precious spot between her legs. When he repeats the action again, he swears he can almost feel the way her body would shiver against his if she were conscious. The things he could do, to make her whiter and gasp beneath him… He shudders as he slips a finger between her folds. There were so many ways he could get her to beg.

That familiar –feral– need starts to pool within him.

It was him who was touching her most intimate area right now. He would be the one to take her.

He would be her first and _only_.

But, just as the words enter his mind, something makes him stop his ministrations.

Her _first_.

Her _only_.

He would be her first, right?

His eyes snap open but he remains rooted in place. The disturbing thought running through his mind, making his breathing stop altogether and his gut start to fill not with pleasure but with dread.

She hadn't… with anyone else…

His finger withdraws from her as his mind fills with irrational fear. She wouldn't… with Naruto, would she? His eyes drop as he tries to think of hidden clues that could stamp out this sudden wave of doubt over the state of her innocence.

When he aimed his chidori at Naruto, she jumped in front of it to protect him. When his battle with Naruto initiated, she didn't call out his name, she called out to Naruto_. _All those years ago, when he exchanged words with Naruto after trying to kill her –twice– she called out to the blonde then too, and he even remembered her defending their teammate's actions to him. He had been away for many years, what other things transpired between the two that he was unaware of?

Did that mean…

His hand is brought to his mouth, as if he was about to be sick. The mere idea of her being in love with someone other than himself makes his stomach churn and his skin crawl with unease. A cold sweat starts to break out on the back of his neck, almost making him shiver only the sudden weight of his limps keeps him from moving a muscle. Is it betrayal that he felt? Her and Naruto?

No.

No, no, no.

His eyes narrow.

She would never. She didn't love Naruto like that. Yes, she cared for him deeply and she would sacrifice herself to save him, but her eyes never shone with the same yearning for Naruto as they did for him. She never called out to Naruto with the same affectionate suffix that she added to his name. She loved him. She would've waited for him. He was sure of it.

He was…

He scowls as he abruptly sits up and reaches forward to unplug the drain. His enjoyment of the bath completely destroyed by the disturbing thought.

.

.

.

As petty as it was, he hadn't managed to sleep properly in a week. He could barely stand in the same room as her because of the nauseous feeling that threatened to overtake him whenever images of her and _someone else_ entered his mind. The same troubling thought continued plaguing his mind. It was foolish. Entirely made up. A figment of his demented imagination, and yet another way in which _she_ was messing with him.

But, alas. No matter how much he tried to convince himself to drop the issue –a baseless and unworthy issue that warranted absolutely zero additional thought since to believe it was true was pure and utter nonsense– he could not.

And so, much to his chagrin, he now sat next to his annoying blonde friend with a large bowl of ramen sitting in front of him.

Quietly, Sasuke listened to his friend blab on about some new technique he was working on. Occasionally, he brought a fresh spoonful of noodles to his mouth and patiently chewed in an effort to make it seem as though he was at least somewhat content to be there. He did his usual, one-word replies and grunts to signal his responses. It was the best he could do.

Finally when the time seemed right, and the blonde took a break from his non-stop chatter, he looked up and carefully observed his friend.

Naruto looked up from his bowl as well, turning to face him with noodles still hanging from his mouth but eager to hear what the raven haired man had to say. Sasuke spoke with such infrequency that whenever he did speak, it was usually of significance.

They stared at each other for a few seconds before Sasuke opened his mouth.

"Naruto." He paused, observing ever more closely for the blonde's reaction. And then, as calmly as ever…

"Have you ever fucked someone?"

...

It was instantaneous. The blonde sputtered and choked on his noodles, turning a dark shade of red as he practically fell from his chair with his mouth agape and a finger pointed at the man beside him.

"W-what the hell kind of question is that!"

Sasuke couldn't help but smirk before breathing a sigh of relief.

So he would be her first.

And _only_.

.

.

.

It was unlike him to window shop or even shop in general if it was not either food or weapons, but something in the small shop window caused his feet to stop on their own. On clear display was a beautiful navy blue kimono with thin silver lines running vertically through the fabric. The edges of the fabric, at the sleeves and base of the kimono, were decorated with finely sewn twigs and branches, and various hanging leaves and flowers in bloom. A lone caterpillar hung, cocooned in one of the branches, while several butterflies danced across the material. The pattern told a story. A simple, but meaningful story.

Making up his mind, he tugged on the shop door and made his way inside. The old wooden floors creaked under his weight and a young, plain looking girl gave a startled gasp behind a counter.

"W-welcome, sir!" She bowed her head lowly. When she stood straight again, she pushed her round glasses further up on her nose and stared wide-eyed as the customer turned his back to her and ran his pale fingers over the material of the kimono on display in the window.

"O-oh, um… that kimono is—" She started talking, still flustered by the handsome man's presence.

"I'll take it." He spoke softly, still with his back to her.

"Um, the price is—"

"I don't care."

The girl nodded her head, having been interrupted twice. Quickly, she stepped around him and proceeded to remove the fancy kimono from its display, sparing shy glances at the male every now and then. He didn't seem to notice and instead stared at some point in the distance.

When she finished removing the kimono, she carried it delicately in her arms back to the counter and started to fold it. Swallowing deeply, she again made to talk to the man, and silently admiring how his unruly raven locks still managed to capture the image of perfection flawlessly.

"The store policy on this grade of kimono is to offer any alterations free of charge. So… if there's anything…" Her voice faded weakly as she stared at the strangers back.

Alterations?

Sasuke remained lost in contemplation. Butterflies represent rebirth, the metamorphosis of something plain and defenseless into a thing of remarkable beauty. It was a feat of nature that a simple caterpillar could wake from its slumber, transformed anew.

What would Sakura's rebirth entail?

He turned to face the young shopkeeper with a hard gaze, making her drop her guard once again and fidget nervously with her hands.

He didn't need to ask.

He already knew what Sakura _Haruno's_ rebirth entailed.

"I would have you sew the Uchiha fan on the back collar."

.

.

.

Shifting his weight from one leg to the other, Sasuke found he was not in a good mood. He stood at the foot of her bed with his arms crossed and the faintest of frowns adorning his otherwise, well-masked face.

"We all miss you, Sakura-chan." The blonde smiled warmly as he leaned in to brush aside some loose strands of pink hair. His fingers lingered and the palm of his hand rested softly on her cheek in an affectionate gesture.

He was definitely not in a good mood at all.

His jaw tightened as his gaze cast briefly from the blonde to the silver haired man sitting in the chair at her bedside. It was times like these where he had to exercise the absolute best of his control in order to avoid creating any greater degree of suspicion among his companions.

The blonde shifted and immediately his obsidian eyes fell back onto his orange form. Watching.

"There's so much we'll have to tell you when you wake up."

His eyes narrowed a fraction when Naruto's tan fingers entwined with hers. His thumb brushed back and forth against the backside of her hand.

What did he think he was doing? Touching her like _that_.

He took deeper breaths, trying to quell the growing heat he felt boiling inside his chest.

Wasn't he leaning in a bit too close?

His fingers twitched and he clenched his hands in an effort to keep himself rooted in place. He couldn't tear his eyes from the way Naruto's hand was holding hers. The way Naruto's body hovered over hers.

_Get away from her. _

The blonde's other hand swept across her forehead.

His eyes darkened. Get. Away. From. Her.

"When you wake up, Team 7 will be reunited once more," he grinned and slowly started to lean in closer to her forehead. The path of his lips unmistakeable, he was going to...

"_Naruto_."

He's the only one who can touch her.

The object of his ire stilled, startled by the icy command and looked up with a questioning gaze. Even their sensei studied him through the corner of his eyes. He didn't care. He just needed them to back away before he actually lost it.

"Sasuke?"

Again, he forced himself to release a slow, steady breath in order to prevent himself from walking right over to the other male and throwing him across the room. In fact, while he was at it, he would rip those arms of his right off for added measure just to make sure he never dared to touch her again.

"I just thought," he starts, calm, composed, collected; just as an Uchiha should be. "You wanted to show me your new jutsu."

Naruto regards him hesitantly, as if trying to read beneath the underneath like all good shinobi are taught to do.

A pregnant pause stretches between them until, finally, the blonde consigns himself to whatever pathetic excuse he came up with to explain the behaviour.

"You're particularly grumpy today…" he grumbles as he takes a step back and withdraws his hands from their unconscious teammate's form.

Thank God. He was not touching her anymore.

"I didn't expect you to be here all morning," Sasuke all but hisses out.

_You two really overstayed your welcome_.

"Yeah, well, not everyone has as much time to spend with her as you!" Naruto's hands land on his hips as he pouts over the seeming injustice.

The only injustice was that he had to share her at all.

"I just can't wait for Sakura-chan to wake up so she can give you a good thrashing… Your miserable ass definitely needs it."

He doesn't bother to respond, mostly because all the things he immediately thinks to say are entirely inappropriate and involve violent threats. Instead, he opts to watch the blonde as he grudgingly treads towards the doorway.

"Let me just get a drink before we leave." His orange tracksuit disappears down the hall, allowing Sasuke to relax just a little. There was still another problem to be dealt with.

He glares at the other male occupant in the room, hoping he could take a hint and follow Naruto's lead. He did not have the patience to deal with this today. Or any other day for that matter.

Slowly, the older man rises from the chair.

Finally.

_No_. Wait.

Kakashi glances at him. Something remains hidden in the depths of his perceptive, dark gray eye. His fingers stretch out as he lightly rakes them through his pink-haired student's soft hair, brushing her locks away from her ear before leaning down to whisper something secret.

Sasuke's anger flares once more as he witnesses the physical contact. It's entirely unacceptable. No one can touch her. Only him. He's going to snap the fingers of anyone who tries lay a hand on her. He steps to the side, entirely intending to make his way around the bed so he can slap the offending hand away but stops abruptly in mid-step.

Kakashi's head pulls to the side. He's looking at something.

Sasuke can only watch with bated breath and rapt attention as his sensei's fingers drift down to the V of the female's kimono. The gray-haired man pushes the material aside slightly and stands up for closer inspection. His eye squints with a mixture of confusion and… something more. Curiosity, perhaps? It's hard to tell but there might be a small frown hidden beneath his mask.

Ah.

He's spotted _it_.

"Sasuke," his sensei pauses, tracing his finger delicately over the supple skin of his unconscious student.

"Where did this mark come from?" The words fall slowly from his lips, an impossible reasoning forming in his mind. One that he's not yet ready to accept or credit much weight to.

Sasuke takes a few carefully measured steps until he's standing beside the man, and observes the fading yellow bruise just under her collarbone. He should probably be worried.

"That?" He asks with mild disinterest. "It was probably just one of the nurses. You know they change her."

They don't, actually. He relieved them of that duty some time ago.

He really should be nervous.

"Maybe she bruises easily." He nonchalantly offers a weak excuse, while gazing down at his sensei's hand, which is still hovering above the faint mark.

Slowly, with particular attention paid to the strength of his grasp, he reaches down and lightly takes hold of Kakashi's wrist. The image of violently snapping the man's wrist and flinging him across the room is quickly discarded. It's not the time for such actions.

"Now," his voice is low, and laced with just a hint of smugness, "Let's leave before Naruto grows impatient." He tugs on the arm, dragging it away from his precious belonging.

He should care.

But.

Why should he have to hide his ownership over her?

It would make things much easier if they knew not to touch that which belonged to him.

.

.

.

Like so many times before, he sauntered into her room late in the night. A time when most citizens of Konoha are sound asleep in their beds. Only this night, he felt a twinge of something nasty festering in his belly.

It was an emotion he'd felt thrice before. First, when he was a child and overheard his father praising his older brother to a small crowd of people; listing all the achievements he'd attained at such a young age, an age much younger than himself. Then again, he felt it some months after his family was massacred. As he made his way back to his lonely apartment after a day of wandering and training, he spotted a young girl walking hand-in-hand with her mother and father, smiling brightly without a care in the world. The next time he felt it was not for several years later, when he realized how much power the dobe developed in such a short window of time. Much more power than he'd managed to accumulate in the same period.

It is a hideous emotion that brings out the very worst in people.

_Jealousy_.

He tried to push down the anger he felt over what had transpired earlier in the day by attacking Naruto with particular intent during their training session. He directed his rage into each punch, each kick, each swipe of the sword, but still the unbridled fury grew inside.

They departed, both bruised and with haggard breath. He failed at beating the disgusting emotion out of his system. Even as he stumbled his way home and flopped on his bed in exhaustion, he still felt consumed by it. He tried to sleep, use unconsciousness to simmer the fire raging in his gut, but even that was not enough to free himself.

So, he finds himself standing over her body, glaring down at her innocent face and clenching his fists at his sides as if there's some invisible stress ball in his hands.

He can still picture it. Naruto, holding her hand and pressing his ugly palm to her cheek. _As if_ there was something between them. Kakashi, rubbing his filthy fingers over _his _mark. Both of them with their hands in her hair.

The mental image brings a scowl to his lips.

People touching her like that. How _disgusting_.

He's the only one.

She is his. Not theirs.

His. His. His.

Gritting his teeth, he starts to stalk, back and forth. He wants to take her right now. Rip her clothes off and slam into her mercilessly. Claim every part of her body until she's bathed in his scent. Mark up her neck, and her chest, and her thighs. Everywhere! So everyone can see that she's his.

He should do it.

Abruptly, he stops his pacing and again glares at her, taking in her unmoving form. He hesitates for a moment as he grabs the bed sheet and yanks it down roughly, throwing in some place beyond the end of the bed.

_Isn't this a little bit her fault?_ For doing this to him.

_Yes._ Yes, he thinks it is.

His fingers grab the edge of his shirt and he violently pulls it over his head and drops it on the floor without caring at all where it lands. In the same fluid motion, he makes quick work of his pants, all the while never breaking his heated gaze from her form.

If she would just wake up then he wouldn't be like this.

The mattress dips under his weight as he crawls over to her and climbs on top of her waist. Hastily, he tugs at her obi impatiently, again, heeding no attention to where he tosses it in the room. All he cares about is getting closer to her, feeling her skin pressed firmly to his own. With that thought in mind, he lets his greedy hands roam down her sides, pushing the material aside in his hungry exploration of her skin.

His eyes darken as he takes in her fully exposed upper half. He's quite positive that his idiot teammate and perverted sensei have never seen her like this. Their hands will never be all over her like this. He leans down and nips his fading mark, sucking hard to make sure it gets nice and red. When he's done, he takes her pert bud into his warm mouth to suckle while his hand gropes her other breast with equal vigor.

She is his. All his.

She's a drug that he can never get enough of.

Abandoning her breasts, his tongue drags up her neck to the base of her chin where he leaves a feather light kiss, while looking down at her teasingly peaceful face with half-lidded eyes. It's dark, but he can almost see the way her cheeks would blush at his actions. The way she would squirm and wriggle beneath him as he memorized every curve, every blemish, every hair on her sweet, supple body.

He rakes his fingers through her hair, cradling her head in his hands as he claims her lips, dominating every corner of her moist cavern in a heated kiss. Naruto and Kakashi have never tangled their fingers in her hair like this. Especially not while devouring every part of her delicious mouth.

"Mm," he moans against her as he draws back to suck on her bottom lip, teasing it with gentle prods from his tongue. The site of her swollen, red lips sends a rush through his veins. Heat starts to twist and coil its way down his chest, making his heart thud loudly in his ears. It's a stark contrast to her own steady heartbeat.

How is it that he can never get enough of her?

All he wants to do is rip right into her, once and for all. Take what belongs to him; what she would surely offer him if the circumstances permitted it. Didn't she say she loved him? Didn't she say she would fill his loneliness? His solitude?

He was selfish, he knew. Wanting everything she could possibly give him.

His hips rolled forward, the act eliciting a low and deep moan into the crook of her neck. The fire had spread to his loins, filling his body with untamed desire. A lust that had an insatiable appetite.

"I want you so bad," he whispered, hoarsely into her ear.

He was losing control. The hunger inside him wanting so badly to be filled. He rubbed against her, gasping at the way the friction sent waves of pleasure shooting down his spine. It wasn't enough though.

Clenching his hands in the sheets beneath him, he thrust his stiff erection against the clothed seam between her legs. A new wave of shivers shook through his body with each ground of the hips. He was so close. His ragged breathing beat against her skin, yet still he found the breath to lay kisses on her cheek, her jaw, and the front of her throat. He needed to taste every part of her.

"I _need _you." A throaty groan tore from his lips, betraying that he was still not quite a man but a teenage boy.

God, how he needed her. His entire body ached and radiated heat like a furnace. He wanted to take her. To bury himself deep in her tight walls except…

He wanted to feel her legs wrap around him, drawing him in impossibly closer.

He wanted to hear her scream for him.

For her to gasp and beg him to take her. Again and again.

Another harsh thrust against her had him hissing painfully in her ear. He grabbed her hand —the hand Naruto dared touch before— and wrapped it around his throbbing member. Using his hand to guide her, he pumped himself until he could no longer see straight. Faster and harder, his gasps and moans grew in volume and frequency. To have her hand wrapped around him made the sensations impossibly better, and more real, then every before.

"Sa… kura," he ground out in the midst of groan. He was so close now. Unbelievably so. It became harder to breathe, harder to hold himself above her body.

"Sakura, Sakura!" He chanted her name, desperately wanting a reply but receiving none.

His hips buck forward, head falls against her shoulder and eyes close as he peaks, spilling his hot seed all over both of their hands and in between their bodies. The sweet sensation of unadulterated pleasure ripples through his body, making him weak and hoarse of breath.

He slumps against her, his heavy breathing and rapid pulse slowly filling his senses. For several moments he can do nothing, his mind too hazy and his body too exhausted to move. His body glistens with sweat, making his messy raven hair stick partially to his forehead. If he could freeze this moment in time, just stay wrapped in it forever, he would.

After several minutes he finally has the sense to roll off her and onto his back.

He was so tired and ready to drift off into unconsciousness, but before that… He turned his head, those sinful lips of his dangerously close to his lover's ear…

"You have six days." He whispers.

Wrapping his arms around her and hugging his body close to hers, his eyes drift shut, "Six days to wake up before I take you. Once and for all."

The finality in his voice leaves no room for argument, not from her or himself. He will have her. Whether she's conscious or not, he will have her in six days. He's just giving her the chance to save him from the darkness.

He was selfish, he knew.

But, he would give anything to keep her with him forever.

.

* * *

**A/N:** The climax is approaching! Will Kakashi and/or Naruto make it in time or will Sasuke give in to his dangerous desires!? Hehe, I already know the ending but I guess you will have to stay tuned till next time!


	6. Envy

**Title: Envy **

**Rating: **M for Sexual Content (Non-Consensual)

**Summary: **Sasuke is possessed by Envy and will stop at nothing to take what belongs to him, regardless of how horrible the consequences will be.

**Author's Notes: **_Do not read_ if you are not into dark themes. This is your warning to stop now. I put individual ratings and warnings at the top of every single oneshot in this collection, it's best you pay attention to them, especially if you are underage.

I'm thinking of writing a bunch of oneshots, each based on one of the 7 Deadly Sins (no, not every one will be twisted/dark). I promised **YuukiChanLove** a fic with dark Sasuke, so here it is. If you are waiting for Twisted updates in this Anthology, you should know that it has been uploaded as an individual fic. Go to my profile page to read the latest updates if that's what you're waiting for. Reviews are always read and appreciated!

Sasuke is a bit OOC.

* * *

**_Sin: Envy_**

_A person is born with feelings of envy and hate. If he gives way to them, they will lead him to violence and crime, and any sense of loyalty and good faith will be abandoned. _

- Xun Zi

oOoOoOo

There are times when a person wants something purely because it belongs to another. It doesn't start as a need or necessity, but becomes one the longer they watch in the shadows, waiting to strike and seize what they believe to be justifiably theirs. The yearning to steal, take, snatch, the object of their desire grows to a deafening pitch. Blackening their thoughts, twisting their hopes and dreams for the future into something malicious, and filling their body with the compulsion to consume and possess that which is not theirs.

I.

Sakura's arms shook as she held Naruto in her arms, sobbing over his bruised and battered body, wetting his face and hair in the process. Her heart clenched painfully, head leaned over his weakly and her soft, pink strands brushed against his whiskered cheeks. His head was resting in her lap when she broke down completely, unable to form a coherent thought as her body racked with uncompromising sorrow. As if one with her misery, the gray clouds overhead broke out into a chorus of cold, hard rain.

How could this happen. How could her warm, boisterous, larger-than-life companion really be gone?

A large, choked out sob broke past her lips and she clutched onto his orange jacket tighter than ever. The pain she felt was too great, there was simply no way she could ever recover from this. She was shattered and broken. The strings of her fate forever tarnished and twisted into an impossible knot.

In the edges of her vision, she could see the way his chest remained slashed open. The skin burnt and charred in three long, horizontal gashes. His orange jacket lay open from her desperate efforts to pump chakra into him. She was supposed to be the best medic of her generation, she had promised to be there for him. Yet, despite all her efforts, despite giving it everything she had, begging and pleading with him repetitively to wake, his heart remained still. In the end, she was as useless as she ever was.

It wasn't supposed to be like this. Naruto always triumphed. He always overcame whatever obstacle lay before him. He always kept his promises.

"You lied, Naruto!" She bit out brokenly, biting her lip and shutting her eyes tightly to stem the burning tears and fight the painful lump in her throat. Neither measure helped. He promised to become Hokage, and to secure a happy ending for Team 7. She wanted to hear his voice, listen to that goofy, lighthearted laughter of his once more. To have him ask her out on a date to Ichiraku for ramen. There were so many things she'd yet to work out. So many things that she never got to say to him or of ask.

Her fingernails dug into the material covering his shoulders. How long, she thought, would she have to wait until this crippling agony left and replaced with cold numbness. She didn't want to feel, she didn't want to think, she didn't want to be alive with this crushing weight. It was suffocating.

Too lost in her grief, she did not hear the gentle steps sloshing through the muddy earth nor did she realize they came to a stop a few feet from where her precious, beloved Naruto lay.

"Sakura." The low, dark tone met her ears, causing her shoulders to stiffen and her eyes to snap open. Somehow, the ache in her chest amplified and she thought she would be sick. Quickly, one of her hands slapped over her mouth as she swallowed the mounting bile rising in her throat.

She did nothing to look up at the man who spoke her name. Instead, she stared with blurry eyes at Naruto's rough features. The hair ruffled around his face, the tanned hue of his skin, the thin lines on his cheeks, and the straight line his lips were drawn. The blood dribbling out from the corner of his mouth destroyed the peaceful manner of his expression. Suddenly, she wanted to wipe it away. Clean him up as if it would make him as good as new.

"Look at me." Her thoughts were snapped by the cold, demanding voice. But, she couldn't look at him. She didn't want to, all she wanted was to be left alone so she could cling onto Naruto until her body had no more will to survive, until it relented to nature and she ceased to exist just like the boy in her lap.

"Sakura." There was an edge of impatience in the tone now, igniting something feral inside her.

Dropping her hand to grip back onto Naruto's shoulder, she shook her head fervently, yelling angrily, "No!" How could he expect such a thing from her? After everything he did, after taking something so good from this world, and he still wanted to take more. There was nothing left for her to give him, and with the last of her remaining will, she refused to give him what he wanted.

"Look at me," he drawled out while taking a step closer. She could hear the sound of metal sliding against metal, as he drew Kusanagi from its holster. "I want you to watch," he paused in cold calculation, "as I slice through his heart."

Upon realization of his words, her insides froze and stomach dropped in immediate mortification. Her shoulders trembled and her breath came out in shaky pants. Her entire body tingled with an electric charge, increasing her sense of unease. The tears flowed relentlessly. Hadn't he done enough? Could he not even let him die in peace?

Desperately, she threw her body over Naruto's torso, acting as a shield to prevent any further damage. Her face shriveled in torment as she, at last, looked into the face of the man she once loved more than anything.

"How can you…" She choked on her words, because there was no point trying to reason with a monster. Somehow, she found the strength to continue, "I won't let you, Sasuke!" She bit out his name in disgust for the first time ever.

This was Naruto, the person who tried more than anyone to bring Sasuke back. He was the only person who stood up for him regardless of his actions. He was the only person who still thought it was possible to save this cold, dead man before her. Despite all that, Sasuke had so little honour that he spoke of delivering still further damage to his battered form.

In response to her empty threat, Sasuke's eyes narrowed menacingly. "Move aside," he spoke dangerously but she refused to relent.

"I'll never leave him!" Her fingers gripped the body beneath her, preparing either for Sasuke's brutal attempts to forcefully remove her or, more likely, for him to slice his blade right through both of them. It was alright though, she didn't want to live in a world without any Naruto. He was a force of nature, bright like the sun, and capable of inspiring hope and belief in every person he came across. How could the world ever fill such a void?

There were no words spoken when Sasuke's Kusanagi tipped the underside of her chin up. She gave a half-glare, but overwhelmingly she felt her face drain its colour and her eyes deaden. Sasuke would kill them both.

At once, everything made sense to her. The reason why her heart quickened when she was around him or why she could never deny the smile that tugged up the corners of her lips whenever she saw his yellow hair pop into view. Naruto was her rock, the person she respected more than anyone else.

Sasuke's empty, red eyes bore into her viridian ones. He didn't ask anything of her, yet somehow, she could sense his questioning. Why was she clinging to a dead body, ready to die herself just to prevent further damage. She sat up slightly, moving away from the tip of Sasuke's blade, but with her arms still over Naruto's heart as she gazed down at him in sudden epiphany.

More to herself, but also for Sasuke, she faintly spoke out, "I love him." It was both painful and relieving to admit it. For so long she didn't know her feelings for him, and now that she finally discovered them, it was too late.

"I love him," she reaffirmed, louder and with another sob. She would not move; she could not bear to see any more injuries inflicted because she loved him with everything she had. Each cut, each bruise, tore at her heart. All she wanted was for him to be at peace.

Again, she forgot about Sasuke's presence or maybe, it was simply because she no longer cared.

Sasuke glared down at her desperate form, huddled over Naruto and clinging to him like a lifeline. Something about the scene, about the way she no longer betrayed any sense of fear for him, stirred something deep inside him. The feeling, however, was so faint that he barely heeded any attention to it. If she so foolishly wanted to die protecting a corpse then he would grant her such a favour.

Slowly, he raised his sword high in the air. The tip shone brightly, reflecting the light of the sun that had just peeked through the parting, gray clouds. He noted, vaguely, that the rain had stopped. The observation caused a small hesitation in his actions, affording him just the right amount of time to realize something startling. It was faint. So faint, that he almost doubted its existence.

He went to swing, to drive his blade deep into the two bodies below, when that faint sense doubled. Its intensity growing like the ripples in a pond. His eyes narrowed as he felt Naruto's chakra surge back to life. Slowly, that tan hand twitched and then lifted from the ground until it brushed past the loose strands of pink hair and rested against the soft cheek of the weeping girl above him.

Sakura froze in disbelief, her eyes wide in shock. For several seconds, all she could do was stare into his beautiful, deep blue eyes. Her mind raced to comprehend and verify if this was a dream or reality. She so wanted this to be real. Naruto's thumb stroked her cheek and he smiled in comfort. With his smile, her body instantly filled with warmth and relief. She returned the smile effortlessly, feeling an uninhibited happiness course through her. Finally, the grief she had felt short moments ago hit her like a wave, and all she could do was fold into his battered body and cry. They didn't need to say anything, Naruto felt her emotions strong enough.

When she looked up minutes later to the spot where Sasuke stood, she found he was no longer present. He had disappeared like the wind, leaving her and Naruto alone in the broken landscape where the fight had ended.

For the first time, Sakura had hoped that they would never see Uchiha Sasuke again. And, for the first time, she thought her future would be a bright and happy end.

II.

Sakura stared softly into the oval mirror in front of her, smiling brightly as her glittering eyes carefully observed her form. She was wearing an elegant, white silk kimono with white embroidered sakura petals and branches. It didn't have an obi, rather it tied together at her hip with tightly wound strings attached to the interior of the fabric. Her hair was beautifully done up in a tight bun, with loose strands framing the sides of her face. Never in her life had she felt more gorgeous or excited.

Today, after a year of dating, she and Naruto were getting married. They were still young, only eighteen, but it felt right. She knew, without a doubt, that there was no other person she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. There was no other person who could make her smile or laugh like Naruto, and no other person she felt more like herself with. Every day was life a dream. It was so fulfilling to wake up every morning, knowing that she was cherished and loved by the person she cared for most.

Slowly, her delicate fingers reached forward and grasped the small container of blush. With the utmost care, she brushed the pink powder on her cheeks, doubting that she really needed the makeup but using it because Ino had adamantly insisted she look her best.

When she put the makeup brush down on the oak vanity, she noticed her fingers trembling slightly. It wasn't that she was nervous, rather she was so eager to exchange vows so that she could be united as one with Naruto forever. She closed her eyes and placed her hand over her chest, feeling the rapid beating of her heart against her ribcage.

"Naruto," his name passed through her lips in a breathless sigh and she shook her head a little in an attempt to distill the images of what their night would be like. They had not yet laid together, though they had been close on several different occasions, and they even shared a bed. It wasn't that she had been consciously trying to preserve herself for marriage. They had been waiting for the moment to be special, and somewhere along the way came to the mutual decision that their wedding night would the perfect occasion.

At times, she still felt overwhelmed and undeserving of his love. He was such a good person, the village hero and future Hokage. How could he love an ordinary and simple girl like her? She didn't possess the same internal goodness as him. When she was younger, she had scorned him, judged him, and treated him like her inferior. She never thought of his feelings or his solitude; what it was like without anyone to depend on. Yet somehow, despite all this he still chased after her. Even when she openly declared her love for Sasuke, and begged Naruto to bring him back to Konoha. She had been so deluded back then, thinking it possible to receive love from someone who had only ever known hate.

The last time they had seen Sasuke was over a year ago, when he almost killed both of them. Something dangerous and wicked took hold of him that day. She could see it in his eyes when he glared down at her with the tip of his cold metal sword biting into the skin under her chin. The Sasuke they once knew was lost, replaced with something twisted and contorted. He held a human form but inside, there was nothing human at all. Over the past year, she had heard a few stories about him, each tale worse than the next. People spoke in hushed voices when they mentioned his name. He was a thief, a murderer, a demon in the night. One rumour even told of how he killed a woman's baby right before her eyes, simply because he overheard her making some insignificant comment on the Uchiha name.

Sakura couldn't hold back a shiver. No one could confirm whether the rumours were more myth than fact, but given her last encounter with him, where he wanted her to watch as he mutilated Naruto's body further, she could sense there was quite possibly a great deal of truth to what people said in hushed corners of the streets.

An icy sensation seemed to travel up her spine, making the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. Unconsciously, she started searching for other chakra signatures but found none. Really, she laughed a little at her silliness and opened her eyes to scold herself for scaring so easily.

She looked playfully into her own verdant eyes for a few seconds until, in the corner of her eyes; she registered a dark shadow, and then the outline of something that seemed awfully close to the shape of a human form. Naturally, her eyes shifted over in curiosity.

The moment she saw a pair of sinister crimson orbs staring back at her in the reflection of the mirror her body froze. Initially, her brows knit together, as if trying to determine whether this was all part of her imagination. A twisted, vivid trick on her rational mind, but when the figure's head tilted slightly, her eyes immediately widened in shock and horror.

In an instant, her heart stopped.

Her fingers latched onto the vanity before she hauled herself up and swung around to face him. The chair she was sitting in clamored to the floor, but it went unnoticed by the two occupants in the room. Her legs were actually shaking as she leaned against the vanity for support, and her heart hammered loudly in her chest, its tune a frantic pitch.

What was he doing there, in the small room where she was preparing for her wedding? Of all the days to see him, why did he choose that day to visit? Her mind tried to form reason but her thoughts remained jumbled in a tangled mess.

"Why are you here?" She clutched the edge of the vanity tightly, still trying to keep herself from hyperventilating, as it felt like some invisible weight was pressing all the air out from her lungs. She gazed, doe-eyed, at the man of her nightmares, watching for the slightest hint of movement.

When he didn't answer, she finally collected some of her nerve and demanded, with a calmness that surprised herself, a simple yet firm, "Leave."

The command appeared to amuse him because his lips curve up in a smirk and he pushed off the wall he'd just been leaning against. Taking a step forward, he approached her, threatening to close the gap of ten feet between them.

That short resolve she held seconds ago shattered and panic erupted anew inside her mind and chest. Quickly she yelled, "Don't come any closer!" The vanity that helped hold her in place became a burden, as she realized she could not back up any further. He took another step, now eight feet away. If he really wanted to, he could clear the distance in but a couple long strides.

"Stop!" She shrieked, hating how his mere presence made her feel like nothing more than a completely, defenceless genin once again.

To her dismay, he obeyed, halting his movement mid-step. Still, his cursed red eyes stayed directly on her, expressing nothing other than a cold, dead cruelty.

With urgency she started looking for an escape, her eyes darting around the room before settling on the door to her left. She tried calculating how quickly she could make it there, turn the knob and fling the door open to flee down the hall. Perhaps, the commotion would alert Naruto, _anyone_, to her plight. It was really only a few feet away and she doubted it would take more than a couple seconds to accomplish. She could even break down the door with her fist to save time.

Swallowing, she glanced back to Sasuke, gauging how close behind her he would be. It would be close with that speed of his, but surely worth the risk. Her muscles tensed in preparation to bolt.

"Don't." His icy voice sent her stomach reeling. It was lower and far more dangerous than she remembered. He had grown at least another inch, bust his handsome face and messy raven locks remained ever the same.

Her eyes shut, brows narrowed in a mixture of fear, anxiety and concentration as her head turned from him. His command, while betraying no emotion, held the promise of pain should she disobey. It bit her to the bone, knowing full well his ability to inflict such agonizing torment without a hint of remorse. But, what other option did she have? Surely, staying with him, letting him control the flow of events would inevitably lead to much the same outcome. She should at least put up a fight, show him that he could not bend her to his will like old times.

Making her decision, she released a shaky breath of air before snapping her eyes open and leaping for the door. She raised her fist, prepared to smash through the obstacle when suddenly, and forcefully, her elbow was yanked back with such incredible force that she heard, more than felt, her shoulder pop out of place.

Everything happened faster then she could comprehend. One second, she was but a hairs length from the wood door. The next second, she was sent reeling back as he used her arm as leverage to send her flying back to the hard, plaster wall on the opposite side of the room where he had just been standing.

She landed with a thud. Eyes screwed shut and her mouth agape; she prepared to let out a mighty scream only to have her oxygen cut off by an unrelenting hand, wrapped tightly around her neck. She couldn't breathe and her neck seemed to sting from contact. With her uninjured arm she swung her fist blindly, hoping desperately to catch him off guard and land one of her knockout punches against some part of his body. But, like always, he outclassed and outwit her.

His fingers wrapped deftly around her petite wrist, slapping it back roughly against the wall with such force that she was sure one or two of her knuckles snapped.

More air rushed past her lips as she let out an agonized gasp. Before she had the time to open her eyes, the hand around her neck dropped to deliver swift and violent punch to her abdomen. She would have keeled over, for sure, yet the solid body mere inches from her own prevented her. She knew a few of her ribs had to be cracked, the pain was so acute that she could hardly breathe. Having nowhere else to fall, her forehead fell limply against the shoulder of her attacker.

A minute passed, and all that could be heard in the room were her short, haggard breaths. Heat started to erupt in her chest, as it naturally does upon receiving a vicious blow. Several times, she thought she might retch all over his clean, black shirt.

Slowly, he brought a hand to cup her chin, pushing her head back against the wall and tilting her head up so that he could make sure she saw his face completely. With his thumb, he brushed over the blood that dribbled out from the corner of her mouth. She winced, biting her lip and glaring at him weakly through half-lidded eyes.

"I told you not to." She visibly flinched at his cold, uncaring words and tried to turn away but his grip tightened and nails dug into her skin until they left half-crescent shaped indents.

"What do you want?" She asked meekly, wondering what she had ever done to him that was so awful he had to seek his revenge on her wedding day.

His blank eyes gave no answers, but she swore his straight-lined lips ducked down ever so slightly that a frown donned his features, though she couldn't be sure of it. Sakura saw his sharingan start to spin and her eyes widened in sudden horror, thinking he might actually use his mangekyou sharingan on her.

"Don't bite your tongue," he hissed out between his teeth as the hand on her chin departed to grab her shoulder, giving it a callous tug and popping it back into place. A strangled scream ripped through her, though his hand quickly slapped over her mouth to muffle the sound.

Tears that had prickled in her eyes now poured down her cheeks. As her vision clouded, she couldn't help but wonder how this man, this monster before her, was once a beloved teammate that she dedicated so much of her life chasing after. Those years that he trained with Orochimaru, she had trained relentlessly so that she could pursue and return him. She and Naruto always thought they could save him, make him see reason and give up his hatred. Looking at him now though, into his steely red orbs and altogether menacing aura, she could see that they had never been further from the truth. He was not a man who could be saved. He would drag them down with him, infecting everything he touched with malice and contempt.

Uchiha Sasuke no longer existed.

His eyes shifted to the side. At first she was confused as to why, but then she heard a muffled sound and some footsteps coming down the hall to her room. Her chest felt lighter and her limbs tingled with newfound hope, thinking surely, that her savior was close in hand.

The footsteps drew closer, only meters away. To signal some sort of warning, she tried to squirm, desperately trying to free her mouth so that she could call out or make a sound.

Naruto would be coming. He would save her because he always did. He always got there just in time to save the day.

Nimbly, her weakened arm lifted and attempted to push the raven-haired man off her. She was so close, she could taste freedom in her mouth. She stared at the door, willing it to burst open.

Sasuke's hard gaze returned to the struggling kunoichi and narrowed. The mangekyou sharingan swirled menacingly in his eyes as he leaned in closer. His lips almost brushed over the hand that covered her lips and their noses touched. The sickening proximity demanded her attention, and the moment she gave it, he captured her in his twisted world of red.

Sakura's eyes widened in stunned shock before sliding shut. Her legs collapsed beneath her and his arms dropped to wrap around her waist, pulling her flush against his solid body.

Her torment had only just begun.

III.

Sasuke stood in the corner of the small, dark prison cell. His figure was cloaked in the shadows as he patiently waited for the pink haired kunoichi to waken. It had been so long since he saw her in the flesh, even if his thoughts of late were entirely consumed by her.

The last time he saw her, she'd been pathetically draped over Naruto's body professing her love. At the time, her words meant little to him; nothing more than faint white noise in his ears, but they stirred something within him just enough to make him pause. She planted a seed, one that grew hungrier and its need to be fulfilled increased in urgency with each passing day.

For many months, he didn't know what it was about the scene that irked him, but he often woke up in the middle of the night with a burning rage in his belly. Then, he discovered what it was. The way she leaned over the dobe, clutching him as if he were her _everything_. As if nothing else mattered except for Naruto. As if she could live happily and fulfilled without him, Uchiha Sasuke.

His fingers clenched, digging into his palms when he thought about _that _day. The day that tipped the scales and incited him to act. He had been sitting in some shady bar, filled with criminals and scum of the earth, where whores and prostitutes made their living and men consigned themselves to gambling debts and drunken fights. As he sipped his sake waiting for one of his contacts to bring him fresh news on activities in the North, he overheard two men talking. They snickered and spoke lewdly about some sparkling gem, some beautiful cherry blossom and the future Hokage announcing their engagement. He refused to believe it as he hauled the unsightly men out into the streets, forcing them to give up where they'd heard such a thing before splitting their throats open and leaving them bloody and lifeless on the ground.

Now, he would seize what belonged to him. Corrupt her completely and mold her into something new entirely. Naruto would never see her again, and if he came for her, he would kill him. Rip his heart out for real this time and bring it as a gift for her.

Crimson eyes seemed to darken as the female's body slowly started to rouse on the bed. He tried to contain the excitement pooling in his stomach by keeping his breathing level, yet his fingers twitched in his fists with the yearning to reach forward and touch any part of her smooth, alabaster skin. He watched as her facial expression switched from confusion, to realization, to pain, and then to fear.

Her fear fed him. He had to hold back the urge to laugh when her wide, terror-filled eyes latched onto his form. So fragile, so weak and pathetic, if it wasn't so thrilling to know he could affect her in such a way, he would find it absolutely disgusting.

He starts walking toward the bed in slow purposeful strides, the smirk on his face never leaving his lips, even as her hands fisted the sheets and she started scooting away until her back hit the wall the bed was up against. With each step her breathing grew shorter and softer. Her chakra was drained, her body battered and weak, she had no power to withstand him.

"Sa ku ra," his playful voice intoned each syllable of her name, making her flinch. He comes to rest a foot from the bed, his form towers over her and casts a long shadow across the dimly lit room.

"What do you what from me," she finally snaps, her fear replaced by anger.

Sasuke 'tsks' and his smirk widens as he teasingly responds, "I thought you would tell me how lonely your life is without me." The words are in reference to something she said many years ago.

"You're sick." She speaks lowly and shakes her head before looking up with a hateful glare, "Rather than feel lonely, I felt the happiest of my life!"

At her words, his smirk disappears and replaces with a frown. Again, his eyes narrow dangerously. His expression and the tenseness in his shoulders warn Sakura against further insult, but she was no longer that lovesick little girl that heeded his every command. Ignoring the trepidation mounting in every nerve ending of her body, she continues.

"Naruto…" She speaks softly at first but, as her confidence on the affirmation grows, so too does the strength of her voice, "Naruto will come for me. You'll never get away with this." Tilting her chin slightly higher, she frowns at the raven-haired man in front of her.

"You will forget that name." He replies darkly, his words laced with an acid that stung.

"I'll never! Naruto—" She started yelling, prepared to tell him how unwavering Naruto's love for her was, and how deeply he cared for her, but her voice was cut short when a powerful hand slapped across her cheek. Immediately she felt warmth explode on the area of impact, but the time to dwell on it snapped short when another hand wrapped tightly around her bruised neck. He hauled her up in a fluid motion, lifting her feet from the ground and slamming her roughly into one of the cell's walls.

Upon impact, her head smacked against the cement wall, unleashing a fresh wave of pain to the area. The injury to her ribs flared, making her breaths come out in shallow pants. How much more of his abuse could her body endure, she wondered.

His cheek brushed against hers as his lips hovered mere millimetres from her ear. All she could feel through her hazy thoughts was the hot breath on her lobe and the masculine scent that engulfed her senses. Her body gave an involuntary shudder.

"You _will _forget." He bit out harshly, leaving no room for rebuttal as he continued to spill poison words into her ear.

"You will forget the colour of his hair, the shade of his eyes, the _feel_ of his body," at that, he pressed himself more firmly against her. She could feel the firmness of his body and the outline of his toned muscles through the fabric of his shirt. To have him so close was suffocating.

"You will forget his smile and the sound of his voice." As she listened, the tears started to flow from her cheeks, and she found that if not for his body so close to hers, she would've collapsed onto the floor since she felt weak and defeated.

Drawing back to stare directly into her eyes, Sasuke grabbed her chin, forcing her head up to look at him. In response, she shut her eyes, ignoring the way his thumb dug into her skin in response to her defiance.

"Open." He commanded. Still, her eyes remained shut.

Angered by her disobedience, Sasuke's free hand travelled up to her hair and yanked hard enough to snap the elastic holding her neatly placed bun and severing a few strands from her precious little scalp. She gasped, and fought his hold but she didn't have the room or leverage to land a blow. All she could do was deny him what wanted.

Flexing his fingers around her delicate neck he threatened, "Open. Now." He exhaled deeply, "Or I _will _bring you his head."

She shakes, knowing this little game of theirs is over. It was painful to admit to herself that he always defeated her so easily. Even after all these years, he could still pinpoint her weaknesses, turning her into nothing more than a poor, helpless girl. Slowly, her eyes opened halfway, the tears still obstructing much of her vision. Her half-hearted attempt to obey seemed to please him enough, since he continued to speak with a cruelty that stung more than the physical wounds he'd delivered her.

"You _will_ forget his name."

Her body trembled and she numbly shook her head, but he stilled her by cradling her head in his hands. With his forehead touching hers in mock affection, he made a dark promise.

"You will forget everything, until I am the only one." She desperately wanted to close her eyes and block out everything entirely, but he held her gaze firm, not allowing her to break it.

"I will be the only one you think about, the only one you crave. Your thoughts will be on me, night and day. You will think of nothing but _me_. I am your life, I am you future. I am your _everything_."

"N-no!" She weakly resisted.

"Yes." He affirmed just as the syllable left her mouth.

She opened her mouth to persist in her denial but he silences her with his lips, hot atop hers. Before she can react, his tongue slips inside to hungrily devour all that's inside. It's a harsh demanding kiss, one that is so different from the gentle, loving ones Naruto gives her.

The hand cupping the back of her skull rakes through her newly freed hair, tugging before pressing her lips more firmly against his. Sasuke's other hand drops from her neck to draw lazy circles over her sides. When his tongue slides against her, encouraging cooperation, she hesitates.

Sakura couldn't believe what was happening. She didn't understand it. Why was he kissing her so possessively? Why did his hands cling to her to tightly? Nothing made any sense. Hadn't he just been beating her? Now he was saying that she belonged to him, when all his life he wanted nothing to do with her. He was… toying with her. Playing a sadistic game of which she had no chance of victory. He would take what he wanted with or without her consent.

Sasuke moaned deeply into her mouth, inciting her shock to shift to disgust. In retaliation to the unwanted assault of her mouth, she bit down on his tongue enough to draw blood.

The metallic taste in her mouth almost caused her to gag in revulsion.

Hissing as his tongue withdrew; Sasuke glared and returned her desperate act by clamping down on her lip, piercing the surface and leaving it swollen and bruised.

Upon hearing her whimper, he leaned in to suck the lip clean of blood, rolling his tongue playfully over the bite mark. "Don't fight it. You know you can't win," he smirked as he planted a kiss on her chin and started to trace the length of her jaw.

His hand continues to roam down her side until it reaches the thin strings trying her kimono shut. Impatiently he tugs the tie loose, earning a started gasp from her, before his hands work hastily to force the kimono open. He lets his fingers trace delicately over the surface of her soft skin, heating every part of her he can touch. The only part of her that remains concealed from his wandering eyes are the areas covered by her chest bindings and panties, though he is quick to remove the obstacles with an unforgiving tug.

"S-stop!" She shakes her head and shuts her eyes tightly, humiliated by his actions. Only Naruto could see her like this, not some demon with twisted desires. Desperately she raises her arms to cover herself, her cheeks burn in shame, but he slaps her hands away and pins them above her head with one of his hands so that he can do all that he wants to without impediment.

Sasuke chuckles at her plea and rubs himself against her thigh, letting her feel his need through his pants. The friction makes him ravenous for her body, and all he can do in the moment is grind himself against her, wanting so badly to satisfy his need. In unison, they gasp, he in want and she in disgust, but he pays no mind to it because whatever sounds she makes are for him and him alone.

Trying to stem the tide of his arousal, he leans in to capture one of her soft mounds in his warm and wet mouth, his tongue rolls over pert bud until it stiffens for want of attention. As his mouth sucks greedily, his free hand gropes her other breast in a rough and demanding way.

"St… op it," Her plea is interrupted by an unwanted pant as his skillful mouth and hand stir the tingling of desire in her core. If only she were stronger.

Pausing from his ministrations, Sasuke pulls himself from her breast and leans in against her ear as he whispers lowly in her ear, "I'll be the only one to ever touch you again." He tilts his head even closer, so his lips brush against the shell of her lobe.

"I'll be the only one to touch you here," he squeezes her breast, and she bites her swollen lip to repress a moan.

"… And here," his hand continues its downward descent, resting on her abdomen for a brief second before coming to rest outside the folds of her maidenhood.

"And _here_." His voice is low and raspy with lust as he slips a finger inside. Skillfully, his index finger curls and slides until she's wet and squirming, helpless to prevent the sinful moan that breaks past her lips.

Sasuke smirks against her cheek and adds another finger, scissoring her insides while pumping in and out. Her warm walls hug his fingers, promising a tightness around his girth that erodes his restraint. The hunger that's been clawing inside him for so long is bubbling to the surface. Here she was, squirming and panting for him, he was her everything, the only thing she was thinking about was-

"N-naruto…" Sakura gasped out and bit her lower lip.

The raven-haired male froze. His fingers stilled in the middle of a thrust and his breathing halted.

She didn't know what made her say it. Maybe she wanted to spite him, prove that she would never forget. Or, maybe she just wanted to say something that would make him so furious, he would replace this sickening pleasure with pain. She didn't care if he beat her, in fact, it was preferable because she never wanted to feel good from his touch. Perhaps, it was both. Whatever the reason, it succeeded in stilling the stoic Uchiha quicker than any other word or insult could.

The smirk on his mouth vanished, replaced with something dark and sinister that made her shiver in fear. Hesitantly, she peeked a glance at him, seeing him glaring down at her with a rage she had never seen in all her life.

"No." He grit out lowly, wrapping his fingers around her neck and slowly squeezing the life from her. She started to choke, her head throbbed with lack of air.

"No, no, no!" His voice grew in pitch and he squeezed even tighter, intent on killing her right there and then.

"You will not say his name!" Her lungs started to burn, a fire lit inside them as they desperately wanted an intake of oxygen. "You will not think of him! Only _me_!" His crimson eyes blazed, the only thing she could still make out through her blackening vision. Perhaps this was best though. She would rather stay loyal to Naruto to the bitter end than let her treacherous body betray her.

Just when she thought it was the over, and she could feel the afterlife's embrace, his fingers released their vice-grip hold and he hauled her creamy thighs up and over the bend of his arms, lifting her off the ground. She didn't even have the awareness to beg, plead or argue with him to stop. All she could do was cough and gasp for air as her greedy lungs demanded to be filled.

His erection presses against her passage and she's not even conscious enough to fully know what it is; she didn't even remember him taking his pants off. He doesn't hesitate or wait for her to recover her senses, instead he tears into her, plunging the entire length of his manhood deep inside her with a single, hard thrust. Soaking up the last of her innocence, which he stole without even pausing to think about his sin.

She cries out, the pain erupting between her legs but he pays no mind to it and gives her no time to adjust. He pounds into her relentlessly, pulling her legs up higher so he can plunge in deeper and harder. The only thing he cares about is satisfying his own need and punishing her for her disobedience. As she claws and digs her nails into his skin, he feels the muscles in his belly grow taut. His breathing is harsh, his flesh scorching, and the ache in between his legs unbearable as his thrusts grow unevenly paced.

His animalistic taking of her continues for several minutes, giving her enough time to feel nauseated and disgusted at the sound of his skin slapping against hers. It's all wrong, it wasn't supposed to be like this.

"Don't," she breathlessly appeals to the last of his humanity, but finds he has none. With one last thrust, his orgasm rips through him and he can't hold back the grunt that leaves his throat when his hot seed spills deep inside her womb.

Too weakened from his high, he rests his forehead against her shoulder, waiting for his laboured breathing to regularize. He can feel her heart pounding violently in her chest and hears the choked sobs that now start to overtake the sound of his harsh pants. She shatters completely, unable to hold back even in his presence, as she cries uncontrollably.

It was a bit of a mood killer, actually.

His lust sobers and transforms into slight irritation at the quivering mess she's become.

Abruptly he pulls out of her, letting her broken form slide down the cement wall as he takes a step back to adjust his pants. When he has them fitted back around his hips, he doesn't even bother to give her another look when he walks to the door. His fingers brush against the cold, metal doorknob when he hears her hushed voice.

"I hate you," she whispers bitterly into the quiet room.

Smirking, he turns to face her and walks back over until he's kneeling on the floor in front of her. She flinches when he grabs her chin and cruelly replies.

"That's right. You can hate me, despise me, wish I was dead. It doesn't matter as long as you're thinking of _me_." He reaches down to grab some of the white silken material of her wedding dress. The other hand grabs her knee and force her legs apart as he leans in with a sick, smug expression, his face only centimetres from her own.

"Nothing else matters, because now you're _mine_." He wipes the beautiful fabric of her kimono over her core, smearing the mixture of blood and cum over it, forever tarnishing its pure white colour with his vile sin.

He pushes her face away, letting the tears continue to fall as she crumples up into a tight little ball. Her shoulders wrack and head buries into her knees. He stands, giving her a pitiful look before leaving her alone in the prison cell that's now become her home.

Even when he hears her sobs from the end of the hall, he continues to smirk, knowing her tears were for him and that he finally had to himself what Naruto always wanted.

The green-eyed monster lived alive and well inside him.

* * *

**A/N: **Wow, I'm pretty messed up in the head! A few things:

A) I do not agree with fics that have Naruto merely as a prop; that is, Sakura's Option B because Option A (Sasuke) is unavailable. I believe if Sakura chooses Naruto over Sasuke, it will be because Naruto has become her Option A. Yes, Sasuke is/was her first crush, but how many people end up with their first crush and how many people live the rest of their lives comparing every man after to their first love? I can't think of anyone. If Sakura ends up with Naruto, she's not going to continue to pine after Sasuke + be sexually unsatisfied in bed for the rest of her life. Lol. It just makes me angry reading fics where Sakura gets married to Naruto and then happily commits adultery with Sasuke, without caring at all for Naruto. :'(

B) Obviously I am a die-hard SasuSaku fan (pretty obvious given all my fics are on them), but I think people who deny the _possibility_ of a NaruSaku end in the anime/manga are fooling themselves. I could give so many reasons on why NaruSaku is, at this time, (probably) more likely than SasuSaku. There's much more evidence to support NaruSaku than SasuSaku or NaruHina, even though I desperately want Sakura to end up with Sasuke. What can I say, I'm a rational SasuSaku fan who can't ignore evidence of other possible endings. If you disagree with me, that's A-Ok. This is just my opinion/interpretation of Kishi's work. In the end, all SS, NH, NS fans are interpreting without 100% proof.

C) The part near the beginning, where Sakura says her heartbeat quickens when she's around Naruto is not made up. It's a real fact and in the databook. Check it out if you don't believe me. Also, the top portion of this fic was inspired by an OVA, which apparently this site doesn't allow me to link to, sorry.

D) FINALLY, I do not condone rape. Writing about the rape of 2D characters does not mean you support it in the 3D world. There's a big difference, believe me. When my head's in the 2D world, I'm a sumo-perv. IRL, I could be classified as a sexual prude *wink*


	7. Princely Lessons Pt I

**Rating: **T

**Genre: **Romance/Drama

**Summary: **The King demands that his son receive a thorough sex education to prevent ridicule from the nobles at court. Who else should help the young Prince but the Lady Haruno Sakura and his teacher Hatake Kakashi.

**Title: **Princely Lessons (Part 1)

**Author's Notes: **Writing this fic was actually pretty funny, in a ridiculous way, because it starts out semi-serious but the actual plot is so NOT serious. When I re-read it, it was like... the first 1000 words is serious business/boring, then it suddenly performs a free fall into smut buildup 101. HAHA, yeah... Part 2 of this (if people want me to continue?!) is basically smutsmutsmut. Happy reading!

As always, thank you dearly for the reviews!

* * *

**Part I: Indecent Proposals**

**. . .**

The good King Uchiha had plenty to be thankful for. Not since the bloody and merciless civil war ten years past had his kingdom witnessed the upheavals of war. The balance of power between the Four Great Nations remained fixed and held firmly in place through a series of alliances that served as checks against any one nation from gaining too much influence. His kingdom was thriving, with increases in its trade and commercial networks, a growing population, several years of abundant harvest and a subservient nobility. Of equally great importance, the legacy of his rule remained secure by the birth of his two sons. Both were healthy, attractive, ambitious and intellectually gifted; they possessed all that was needed in order to be great and noble leaders. It was without exaggeration that Fugaku could proudly say that the two princes excelled in all areas princes ought to. All of this should have allowed the good King to rest peacefully at the end of the day, yet something troubled him greatly.

Despite all he had to be thankful for, there was an issue with one of his sons that increasingly nagged at him. His younger son, Prince Uchiha Sasuke, was stubborn, abrasive, and possessing a touch of hubris. None of these qualities, however, were the problem. If anything, such characteristics made him a strong and capable heir. Prince's that are weak and lacking in confidence do not have the strength needed to control the nobility or command the populace. As such, Fugaku found himself, at times, even promoting such characteristics to the chagrin of many noble families.

For most of his life, the young Prince was given a longer leash and more freedom than his older brother, Prince Uchiha Itachi. This was not because Fugaku liked him any less than his elder son, it was simply the nature of his birthright. As the second born son, Sasuke did not hold the same responsibilities as his brother, the heir apparent. Sasuke was destined for command in the military, where pride and arrogance thrived, creating the most honorable and noteworthy leaders.

Life changed dramatically for both, father and son, on the fateful day one year ago that his eldest son calmly announced that he would _not _ascend to the throne upon King Fugaku's passing. The King remembered that day quite well. Itachi left no room for argument, his words were very precise, _"I will abdicate upon my father's passing, allowing Prince Sasuke to ascend to the throne in my place." _

The shocking pronouncement left the good King with no other option: Sasuke would have to take Itachi's place as heir apparent. The once long leash he had been awarded was shortened considerably. Spies and carefully placed guards monitored the young Prince's every move, quietly observing and reporting to Fugaku any matters of concern.

It was not only Fugaku who had his spies in place, other nobles as well put their own loyal men and women in place to gather any information, which might serve useful for _influencing _the future king's decisions.

Fugaku sat uneasily in an elaborately carved wooden chair by the large hearth, located at one end of his room. He sighed deeply, and tapped his finger impatiently against the arm of the chair. After many months, his spies had gleaned one particular piece of information that worried the King: his son expressed absolutely no interest in females whatsoever. For some, this might seem a fortunate quality. Rather than distracting himself with wanton pleasures and scandalous acts, the Prince threw himself into study and training. Fugaku was indeed pleased, that he did not have to worry about his son accruing the wrath of nobles for deflowering their daughters or the scandals produced by the birth of bastard children. Yet, it was worrisome that his son did not express even the _slightest _interest in any Lady of the court.

As much as royal power depended on physical and proven strength, it also depended on symbolism and simple imagery. If a monarch demonstrates any form of weakness, it incites his nobles to start grumbling and to search for an opening. If the weakness persists for an extended period of time, the nobles start forming their secretive alliances, jostling for power and plotting to exert their influence over the weakened king in order to see their own wealth and power grow. If the king's weakness grows serious enough, the nobility start fighting amongst themselves over who is best fit to seize power. Nobles are a strong king's greatest alley, but a weak king's most dangerous and cunning enemy. A king is as much at war and in competition with his own nobility, as he is with neighboring kingdoms.

While the young Prince's lack of interest in women initially seemed only a minor concern, it grew over time as it revealed itself damaging to his imagery. The nobility and populace alike wanted to know that their future king was healthy and filled with a certain _vitality_ that promised a long and fruitful reign. Sexual exploits enhance a prince's reputation of physical prowess, it shows that he is capable of producing heirs and projects the image of a conqueror. For a prince to go through his entire teenage years without ever touching a female raises considerable suspicion. What sort of healthy teenage boy does not want a woman? What is wrong with _him _that he would turn down every one of the most beautiful, eye-catching and wealthiest females in the entire kingdom? When the time came, would he be able to copulate with his future wife? The people always want their heirs, and when the future heir shows he has no ability or desire to produce such heirs, the line of successful becomes unstable, causing people to ask who would succeed to the throne if the future king sired no heirs? It is these sorts of questions that caused the nobility to start grumbling and spreading derogatory rumours.

The King rubbed the bridge of his nose, inhaling deeply as he waited for his ever-tardy General. How that man could show up late for a private meeting with his King never ceased to amaze him. No other person in the entire kingdom would make him wait nor would he allow it. His General was the only exception.

A light rapping at the door to his quarters informed him that the man had arrived.

"Enter," he commanded softly, but with the authority of a king.

Slowly, the heavy wooden doors pushed open and a lean man with gray hair walked in. He dismissed the guards standing in the corridor and delicately shut the door behind him, before making his way to the King and kneeling lowly on one knee.

"Your Grace," the gray-haired man began with his head bowed, "I apologize for my tardiness. I was—"

"I don't need another one of your excuses Hatake Kakashi." Fugaku eyed his General sternly for several tense seconds before continuing, "You're lucky you're father was in such high standing with me, and that you've proven yourself a capable leader."

The General nodded deftly and looked up at his King with his coal coloured eye, "I understand you had something important to discuss with me, Excellency?"

"Please take a seat, Kakashi-san," the King gestured to the chair across from him, waiting for the man to sit before continuing.

When Kakashi leaned forward, with his forearms resting on the arms of the chair, Fugaku began. "It concerns the crowned Prince, my heir," he spoke calmly but a small trace of frustration entered his usually steady voice.

"Prince Sasuke?" the gray-haired man sought to clarify, and received a curt nod in response.

For a brief moment, Fugaku's gaze turned and lingered on the flickering flames of the fire, which cast dancing shadows across the length of the dimly lit room. His weary eyes closed in concentration and again, he released a long sigh to quell the anxiousness in his nerves.

"You mustn't utter a word of this conversation to anyone outside this room, is that understood," the King studied his General intensely.

"I swear on my life that I will hold your words in confidence. You have my complete loyalty and obedience, Your Grace." Kakashi's normally lazy, calm expression replaced itself with a fiery intensity that rarely ever reached the surface. It was enough to assure the King he meant it.

"Very well." Fugaku cleared his throat and began, "Tell me, what have you heard of my youngest son's sexual exploits?"

Kakashi thought about the question briefly but soon replied, "I'm afraid, Your Grace, that I have heard nothing of his time with the Ladies of the court. Your son, the Prince, is most secretive on... _personal _matters. "

"That is precisely the problem," Kakashi's head tilted to the side so the good King elaborated; "He is at an age where there should, at least, be a _few _rumours swirling on his conquests. Instead, there is absolutely nothing."

A pair of gray brows knit together, "There is still time yet, Excellency. Perhaps the prince is simply a..." Kakashi hesitated, wanting to tread lightly so as not to offend the King, but continued once he received a nod signalling for him to finish his line of thought. "Perhaps he is a late bloomer on this matter."

"That's unacceptable," Fugaku snapped, breaking his practiced calm exterior. "In six months he will turn eighteen, he is of marriageable age yet he has not courted a single woman. Even Itachi took himself a mistress when he was scarcely fourteen years of age." Itachi had always been the quieter and more distant son of the two, yet somehow it was the temperamental, more vocal son, who had him worrying over such an issue.

"Perhaps the young Prince's interests lay in the kinds of women found outside the court?" The General offered an explanation, though even as he said it, he knew there was no way the young Uchiha would possess such low standards.

Fugaku's finger stopped tapping as he asked with mild curiosity, "Do you think he would take a concubine?"

"Hm," Kakashi's forefinger rubbed his chin, "I should think not. He does seem to have rather high standards." In all honesty, the Prince had the attitude that only he and his immediate family members were worthy of living, everyone else essentially lived to serve them.

"No matter." The King replied sternly, "I will have my son take a mistress posthaste. I will not have him garner the reputation of being a eunuch _or worse_."

It was the _or worse _that signified to Kakashi the seriousness of the situation. After all, there were not many things worse for a man than to have the reputation of having no manhood. He had heard no rumours hinting at such an image for the young Prince, but the wise King Fugaku always did possess the uncanny ability to foresee the future turn of events.

"Surely, Your Grace, there have been no such rumours circulating at court," Kakashi asked slowly, cautiously.

"There have been none so bold to put it as harshly, but my spies have overheard whispers," his voice grew lower, though it was impossible for anyone to overhear the conversation from inside the King's quarters.

"What whispers?" The gray-haired man asked in interest. He was a nobleman and General of the kingdom's forces, yet he didn't participate in the power games of court. For him, court was merely a place to have his share of wine and women, not always in that order.

"Some have questioned why the Prince only accompanies himself with the presence of his fellow Lords, you know, the Uzumaki orphan and his fellow cohorts. Some have even gone so far as to postulate whether," Fugaku broke off shortly, as if saying the words aloud would somehow make them true, but he found it in him to finish, "Whether the Prince has any interest in women _at all_."

Poor Kakashi was not sure how to put the good King at ease. He was a tactician, a genius of his craft; his knowledge extended beyond the battlefield to nearly all matters of importance, yet he had never been asked to pose solutions for an ice-cold prince's sexual proclivities or lack thereof.

"If I may, Your Grace—"

"You may."

"So great are the young Prince's talents that he is used to excelling in all matters without having to exert much thought or effort. Perhaps, in this matter, the Prince merely lacks a certain... confidence or assurance in his abilities." Kakashi could picture so perfectly Sasuke throttling him for making such a remark, but it was possibly not far from the truth. People do tend to dislike that which they are not skilled at or have no experience in.

"Do you suppose then, that the Prince would benefit from some lessons on the subject?" Fugaku asked, with sudden inspiration striking his tone. Clearly, an idea was formulating in his wise mind.

"He can only benefit from expanding his skill set, but I do imagine he will be resistant to the idea, Excellency." Sasuke would do more than resist, he would object to the idea entirely.

"I do not care for his opinion on the matter. Prince Sasuke will obey his King, and father, or I will see to it that he sorely regrets it. This issue cannot be allowed to fester. The people, and his fellow nobility, need to know that their future king is healthy." Fugaku glanced back at the flames in the fireplace, "I will not always be here to guide him, and I can't take worry over my son's ability to produce heirs to the grave. He is still young, but he is stubborn and tends to get stuck in his ways."

Fugaku paused briefly before adding, "I will not have my son a blushing virgin on his wedding night." Slight distaste lingered in his mouth at the thought of his son being less practiced than some future wife of his. It was girls, who were supposed to preserve their virginity for marriage, though it was well known that most females in court lacked that particular quality. Boys and men were meant to hone their skills by competing for women and wooing the fair Ladies at court.

"I have no doubt the prince will master these lessons," Kakashi spoke confidently, despite feeling some anxiety building within him.

"I would expect nothing less of my heir. Now," Fugaku leaned forward slightly, "As for his teacher, we need someone who is loyal, sworn to secrecy and most skilled in the art of seduction."

"There are many at court with grand reputations in love-making, but I do not know all the intricacies of family dynamics and who will not use such a..." he searched for the right word, "_compromising _position for the prince against him in the future."

"My thoughts precisely. Kakashi-san," the King stared intently, a look that made the gray-haired man uneasy. "The only person who I trust enough to fulfill such a task is you."

"Me? My lord, I really—" Kakashi began, trying to backpedal himself out of this position. He really did not need to be on the receiving end of the Prince's ire.

"I have heard plenty of your reputation with the Ladies, and there is no other person I trust more. Not only that, but my son seems to hold you in higher regard than the other Lords at court. It must be you."

Kakashi hung his head in defeat and sighed. "It would be the greatest honour, Your Grace." The King had already made up his mind, and no one refuses the King.

"I will inform the prince of my decision in the morning. Tomorrow at court, have the Prince pick out a female to begin his lessons with. I will allow you to organize them however you see fit, just promise me you will see to it that he learns enough not to make a fool of himself." For all his bluntness and cold exterior, the King truly loved his sons and wanted to ensure a long and prosperous future for them.

Kakashi smoothly slipped off the edge of the chair and dropped down onto his knees, kneeling before the King once more and promising with the greatest sincerity, "I swear to teach him all that I know, Excellency."

With all the elegance and grace of the finest kings, Fugaku rose to his feet, signalling his humble General's dismissal. "I will not forget this, Kakashi-san. You are free to leave."

Slowly rising, Kakashi bowed his head and departed the room. Never once, in all his life, did he imagine he would be tasked with teaching the young Prince how to engage in sexual acts with women. It almost made him wish a war would breakout so that he didn't have to follow through.

A shaky sigh escaped the gray-haired man's lips as he ran his fingers through his hair. By tomorrow, he would surely feel the full weight of the prince's wrath for having to participate in such lessons.

Soon, Kakashi would be able to add teacher of sexual education to his repertoire of skills and occupations, what an uncomfortable thought.

. . .

* * *

Two men stood apart from the rest of the Lords and Ladies of the court in silent intensity. No one dared ask why the young Prince appeared to be brooding with his father's carefree General standing next to him. In fact, the sight of the brooding Prince was more standard than the sight of him relaxed or in quiet contentment.

Kakashi rested his hand on the young prince's shoulder in a comforting manner, as he regarded the scene before them. In response to the touch, Sasuke released a bitter scowl and stepped away from the General's hand. To say he was in a foul mood would be an understatement.

One look at the group of chattering Ladies on the opposite side of the throne room was enough to cause the Prince's handsome, pale face to contort in a mixture of disgust and aggravation. He turned his body, preferring to glare at the stonewall with his arms crossed.

"Now, now, Sasuke," Kakashi tsk'd. Knowing the Prince all his life afforded him the unusual privilege of referring to him without the usual formal suffix added to his name. "It's not going to kill you," he took hold of the fuming male's shoulders from behind and returned his attention back to the task at hand.

"The king ordered you to pick one, so which will it be," as he spoke, he regarded the females himself, thinking of weighing in his decision. He automatically ignored the Ladies that were either too old or too young, knowing Sasuke well enough to assume he'd want a female within his age group.

"This is ridiculous," Sasuke hissed lowly. "I don't need a woman." Again, his onyx eyes shifted away from the group of Ladies.

"Perhaps, but how do you suppose you'll continue the Uchiha dynasty if you're too afraid to even look at a woman." Kakashi had long decided to tease the young Prince as much as possible while he still could, for one day, Sasuke would be king and he may no longer be afforded the luxury to do so.

At the General's goad, Sasuke snapped in response, "I'm not _afraid._" To prove his point, he returned his gaze to the Ladies of the court, though Kakashi could tell without being on the receiving end of it, that his glare held such intensity that it was akin to the way a warrior stares down an angry tiger before going on the attack.

"They're just... too clingy, and needy, and weak." His list of complaints could have gone on for half the afternoon, but he settled with, "They're annoying."

"They're not all annoying, Little Prince." Sasuke was about to interject to the contrary but Kakashi decided to get down to business. "What about the Hyuuga girl? She's soft-spoken and obedient."

Sasuke frowned and clipped out, "She's weird. And, her family is always striving to accrue greater influence."

The curt rejection saw Kakashi's eyes roll, "Very well. Then, why not Yamanaka Ino? Her family is more complacent and she possesses a desirable womanly figure."

"She talks far too much and," Sasuke glanced over his shoulder, "If you desire her figure so much, why don't you go to her and leave me be."

"You know I can't do that." He wanted to add that the last thing he wanted to be doing was helping the Prince find a Lady to bed, but he'd already promised the King to deal with this task respectfully.

Kakashi searched the group of females for another one close in age and attractive enough to appease the Prince. His eyes eventually fell on one with chocolate brown hair wrapped in twin buns. The girl laughed with the Lady's from the Yamanaka and Hyuuga clans, clearly enjoying something about their conversation. "Tenten has a sense of humour and a pleasant demeanor, how about her?" He calmly asked.

This time, Sasuke snorted in his typical, condescending fashion. "I don't even know her family name. I would never share a bed with someone of such low birth," the Prince scoffed at the indignity.

"Of course," was Kakashi's bland reply. Mentally, he scolded himself for somehow forgetting about Sasuke's pretentiousness when it came to mingling with others.

"You could go for that red headed girl, Karin, was it? If my memory serves correct, she is part of the Uzumaki clan, which is well respected." Kakashi did not know much about the woman but he was running out of suggestions. On paper, at least, the Karin girl seemed suitable.

"Don't be absurd," the raven-haired Prince bit out haughtily. "She's constantly chasing after me in the most unsightly of ways," as he finished speaking, he turned to face the older man with a look of annoyance. "You're not even trying. All of your recommendations are entirely unsuitable."

An exasperated sigh made its way through Kakashi's mask. Who knew picking a woman to fool around with would be such a difficult affair. It's not as though the King had asked Sasuke to pick out a wife. At the thought, Kakashi felt a shiver run down his spine. _That _would be an arduous process indeed.

Growing tired of the Prince's difficult attitude, Kakashi lazily replied, "If all my suggestions are unsuitable, then pick one for yourself or else we will have to seek out a concubine."

His statement had the desired effect, because as soon as the Prince heard the word 'concubine', his face shriveled up in revulsion. There was no way Sasuke would ever touch one of _those_. Turning on his heel, Sasuke searched the crowd of Lords and Ladies for several moments.

Silence passed between the two males, as Kakashi patiently waited for the Prince to make his choice. After a couple minutes, he had lost himself in absentminded thought, only to find himself startled by Sasuke's abrupt and terse voice.

"I will take her," Sasuke nodded in the direction of his choosing. Kakashi followed his unbreaking gaze and spotted a familiar, pink-haired female, smiling brightly and standing next to the blonde-haired Uzumaki male. She was soft on the eyes and appropriately dressed for a proper Lady. Kakashi knew her well, having spoken to her on many occasions.

To clarify, and make sure he had spotted correctly, Kakashi questioned, "The one with pink hair?"

"Yes," Sasuke paused briefly in seeming contemplation, "Haruno Sakura."

At last, the young prince shifted his attention back to his so-called teacher. His onyx orbs bore into Kakashi's coal eye with a determined intensity as he asked, "Now what?"

With a small smirk, Kakashi answered him, "Now you learn your first lesson."

"And what might that be," Sasuke's eyes narrowed impatiently. He really couldn't believe that of all the things his father had asked of him as his heir, having sex with a woman was on the list. Nor was it wasn't _only_ sex, rather, his father wanted him to engage in some form of crude sexual lessons with the woman as if he were some kind of animal.

The gray-haired man turned the prince around once more and leaned against his back to whisper into his ear while they both eyed the Haruno girl. "You must ascertain Haruno's voluntary permission to partake in these lessons of yours. And, you must do so without using the excuse that you are her Prince, and future king, and she your loyal subject."

Sasuke frowned as he watched the pink haired female dancing with Naruto, "How am I supposed to do that?"

"I don't know, woo her, seduce her. Anything, really. Just make sure you acquire her consent or we will have another problem to deal with. The people of court must not learn of your lessons." With that, Kakashi gave the Prince a gentle shove to be on his way. He truly hoped for both their sakes that the Prince would succeed, though he didn't really doubt he would manage it one way or another.

"Good luck," he chimed happily to Sasuke's retreating back.

Scowling for what felt like the umpteenth time that day, the raven-haired Prince slowly approached the Haruno girl, affording his subjects the proper amount of time to bow their heads as he brushed passed them without sparing a glance at any of them. He paced himself perfectly to arrive at the girl precisely when the music struck its last note.

Upon his arrival, Naruto and Sakura stepped apart from each other, having finished their dance, and greeted him with a bow and curtsey.

"Sasuke." Naruto nodded, but the raven-haired male's gaze rested on the girl still low in her curtsey. It seemed to take her longer than necessary to realize his attention was on her.

"Sasuke-san, Your Highness." She spoke softly and evenly, though the visible gulp she took shattered her illusion of confidence.

"Lady Haruno," Sasuke acknowledged her but soon found himself unsure of how to proceed. Kakashi had said to woo her, but that task seemed entirely pathetic and unnecessary. Why should he, a prince and heir to the throne, have to woo a female? It should be the opposite, should it not?

He released an involuntary sigh. The things he had to do for the throne.

"I would like to speak to you, Haruno," she tilted her head innocently, waiting for him to continue, "In private."

At his gruff tone, her vibrant green eyes widened and a faint brush plastered itself across her cheeks. "Your Highness," she looked to the floor in insecurity and unsure of how to proceed.

The Prince, however, did not give her or the stunned Naruto much time to dwell on his uncharacteristic request. "Follow me," he commanded before turning and hastily marching to a small, side door behind the throne chairs that was used only by members of the royal family. Never once did he look over his shoulder to make sure she was following his brisk pace.

A guard opened the door for them, and Sasuke proceeded to lead the girl down a long stone hallway. The quick patter of her shoes against the floor informed him she was managing to keep up, which was a relief because he would have been most irritated if she fell behind and he had to send some guards to fetch her.

They walked in silence until he pushed open a finely carved wooden door on his right and led her into a medium-sized study room. Maps and etchings of military tactics decorated the walls, and in the centre of the room stood a large wooden table scattered with military texts. On one end, a large bay window lit the room, revealing the courtyard below.

After taking several steps into the room, Sasuke whirled around, surprising the out-of-breath female who held a hand to her chest as she worked to regain her composure.

"Your... Highness?" A deep breath interrupted Sakura's faint voice. It made Sasuke realize that his brisk pace had been more like running to her.

No matter. There was business to attend to.

"Haruno," he began sternly.

"Please," she interrupted, "Call my Sakura. My father is Haruno."

Sasuke gave a slight nod to acknowledge her request before starting anew. "Lady Sakura. My father, your King, has recently tasked me the most secretive of duties," he spoke in the blankest of tones and watched carefully as she listened to every word that came from his mouth.

"I am loathe to admit that I require aid from an individual of... your such nature." It was growing apparent that he was skirting around the main point of the conversation, but Sakura merely nodded and patiently waited to figure out what the Prince needed from her.

"I must have your word that you will speak of this to no one, not even your closest friends," his eyes narrowed as he waited for her reply.

"Your Highness," Sakura quickly threw herself at his feet in desperation, "I would keep your word at the cost of my life!" She didn't care if she looked ridiculous or if her pale green dress was dirtied, the prince's trust and approval was all she sought.

"Very well. You may stand." Sasuke took a step away from her form and started to pace as he contemplated how to continue. If he were Itachi, he would find a way to make the task of her sleeping with him sound noble and a service to her kingdom. But, Sasuke did not possess the same lightness of tact as his brother, so he endeavored to complete the task with the bluntness he knew best.

"My father has ordered me to engage in acts of a certain... sexual nature, under the tutelage of General Kakashi, in order to prove that I am willing and capable of producing heirs." His pacing stopped and he looked up at the bewildered pink-haired female with a look of partial contempt. "I require your participation to do so. Do you consent?"

"Sasuke-san," her mouth was agape in shock, but she quickly recovered. "Your Highness... Are you saying I must _sleep _with you? As a mistress?" She added shrilly.

"Eventually," he disliked how crudely she put it but he supposed it was not far from the truth. When she took a small step back, he quickly snapped at her, "You have a choice in the matter." Well, for the sake of _pretense_ she possessed the right to deny him. In reality, he already knew that he would not allow her to deny him because he'd already decided she would be the one.

"Then," her mouth drew shut in a straight line, "I refuse."

For a moment, Sasuke was taken aback, not used to being refused anything. "You refuse?" He spoke darkly.

"Yes. I cannot, Your Highness." It seemed for the first time since talking to him, she actually developed a real sense of confidence.

"You cannot..." He took a step toward her and finished lowly, "Or, you will not?"

Sakura tilted her chin up, "I will not. I am a proper Lady, Your Highness. My virginity belongs to my future husband, whoever that may be."

The Prince glowered at her response, "It's not uncommon for proper Ladies, such as yourself, to engage in indecent activities prior to marriage." He found it annoying that she was making things more difficult than necessary.

"Even so, there is only gain for you and risk for me. I do not wish to be a mistress, or to sire bastard children. A Lady only has her reputation, and I will not see mine tarnished over an affair that is meaningless to you." Internally she had to commend herself for sounding so composed. The Prince was unworldly handsome, and she always found herself shaking in the knees when he entered the room. She had fantasized many times being taken as one of his mistresses, but her father and mother raised her to hold more respect for herself.

"I assure you, Lady Sakura," was grit out from between Sasuke's tight jaw, "There will be no harm to your reputation and no birth of bastard children. We will take the necessary precautions."

"But, if people were to learn that I am your mistress, as the King surely endeavors to occur, I will still be made the Lady who could not keep herself for marriage." The last thing she wanted was a reputation for being loose.

"If they were to find out," the Prince circled her like prey, "It would benefit you since the other Lords and Ladies would think you hold some influence over me... That I _favour _you." In complete honesty, he was not lying. Affairs with any other noblemen might sour her reputation, but affairs with royalty were always held in higher regard. Some mistresses held even more influence over Kings than their own wives.

"Would you?" Sasuke's brows furrowed in partial confusion as he continued to circle her, so Sakura elaborated with some curiosity, "Favour me, I mean?"

He stilled behind her, "If you wish it."

At his stoic tone, she spun around to face him with a grin on her features, "You would grant me the permission of influencing your decisions?"

"If your advice is sound." He continued to regard her intently, but with little emotion betraying his thoughts.

"I see," she pondered and raised her finger to her chin, "And would you, perhaps, provide me with gifts?"

After a brief pause, he answered, "If it would please you." She smiled brightly and he could sense that he was closing in on victory. Her flirtations and warm behavior were cue enough for him to know that she no longer refused the proposal outright. If all it took was a few minor promises to appease her and gain her consent, then he would do it, for the remaining options available to him were far too unappealing.

His victory was not yet guaranteed, however, for she soon frowned and bit her lip, which lessened his conviction in her compliance.

"My father would be most displeased, Your Highness." While she eagerly wanted to please the Prince, she knew that she would never do anything against her father's wishes. Just as the Prince owed allegiance to his father, so too did she owe it to hers.

With a lingering look, he left her side, walking to the window to stare into the empty courtyard. A tense silence stretched, leaving Sakura to fiddle with her fingers in discomfort. After a couple minutes of nothing, she started contemplating whether or not she should ask to be dismissed, but it was customary for subjects to wait until members of the royal family dismissed them.

"Lady Sakura," her head snapped to the back of his form, "Your family, the Haruno's, were not on the right side of the civil war, were they?"

She nodded, though he didn't turn back for an answer and merely continued, "It is my understanding that your father incurred substantial debts, due to his losses once my father acquired his rightful place on the throne."

"He is paying them back, Your Highness," she mumbled quietly in defense. It was a little surprising that the Prince bothered to know such details about her family, but she supposed it was his job to know the history of all his nobles.

"Perhaps." Sasuke replied lowly, "But it will take many more years, and even then, he will hardly strum together a suitable dowry for you. Is it your wish to marry into obscurity?" He glanced over his shoulder, eyeing her with interest.

"I..." in embarrassment, her head dropped and her eyes lowered. Of course, she wanted to marry up, but she could never chastise her father for his past decisions. At the time, he thought he was doing the right thing. Many noble families had been caught on the wrong side of the war; her family was lucky enough to make it through with _only_ debts.

"Tell your father that in exchange for his permission, the Uchiha's will see his debts absolved," he watched as her eyes widen. "That is, if you, yourself, consent to it."

"Your Highness," she began breathlessly.

"Sasuke-san," the Prince corrected her. If she was going to become intimate with him, he figured she should at least call him by his given name.

"Sasuke-san... I don't know what to say."

"Notify me of your father's response before sundown tomorrow." Although he gave her an entire day to come to a decision, he already knew he had her. There was no doubt in his mind that her father would gladly lend his daughter to the Prince for the absolution of all his debts and, well, Sakura not knowing what to say spoke volumes for itself.

"You are dismissed." He waved his hand lazily, vaguely paying attention to the flustered pink-haired female who curtsied and hastily departed the study room, leaving the Prince alone with his thoughts.

Soon, his sexual education would begin. The nature of the lessons, he couldn't even imagine.

Somewhere in the kingdom, a gray-haired General chuckled. Things were about to get very interesting.

. . .

* * *

**A/N's: **I'm not sure where I get these ideas. I like historical dramas and Sasuke as a prince is pretty hot. Of course, when you are a prince/heir, you don't have a private life *wink*

In 100% seriousness, I so badly want to write some KakaSasu in this (in addition to SasuSaku) but so many SasuSaku fans would probably have my head. Idk, I might just do it to make myself happy... My friend is really rooting for that;;; Please don't hate me. I'm a multi-shipper and life is good (!)


End file.
